More Adventures of the Other Captain Jack
by Pmpknqueen
Summary: Captain Jacqueline D'Ambrosio is your typical pirate, except that she's far from typical. Her life is turned upside down once more when she picks up three escaped convicts.
1. Always Getting Kidnapped

A/N: As always, I don't own anything except Captain Jack. Also rating might change due to suggestive content and how many times I can drop the f-bomb in one chapter. Captain Jack has been the star of several other stories, so hopefully I filled any gaps (or will in the very near future) without boring myself! So, enjoy!

Chapter 1- Always getting kidnapped

I prefer the term treasure seeker or even cargo runner to pirate. Unfortunately, I end up lumped in with pirates. My dad was a fisherman and part time treasure hunter. He spent his whole life trying to figure out the map on a palm-sized locket he found in his younger years. I inherited the locket and found it's mate and figured out the lockets weren't a map but rather a key to reading a book that led to treasure. That and things like the Bermuda triangle, which believe me, whoever said that place wasn't cursed was an idiot. My ship almost got pulled down to the depths and I still have no idea what got us.

I suppose what makes me look like a pirate, aside from the occasional pillage and plunder thing, is my ship, the Sunset Ambrosia. I found her when I was about sixteen years old half sticking up out of the water off the coast of Africa. She's an eighteen century sailing ship refitted with engines and solar fuel cells. I left the gray sails just for effect and a boost from the wind. Now I know what you're thinking when I say pirate. You've seen the news and all those bad men who take whole cruise ships hostage and shit. I have never, and will never take any one hostage. My own best friend, Ellie, former medical student and now actress, sort of, was taken by a man I'd royally pissed with my lockets and book. Okay, now I'll admit my reaction did sort of make me look like a pirate. I may have blown up his house, a little. The point is, I only steal from those who steal from others. I don't ask about the cargo I haul other than to make sure I'm not running drugs or guns. Granted I do work for some of those dealers. Mostly I just haul fenced things and black market items mixed with things that are just plain hard to get through security.

Now that I've gotten that out of my system, I'll just hang here in silence and boredom. My crew should have been here a few minutes ago but as usual, they're late. We're always late. Why not be late in rescuing the captain? They're probably off having a party right now anyways. I probably should explain how I ended up in my current predicament. It's Joey's fault of course. A few hours ago, I was asleep in my cabin curled around my pillow in the nice warm, soft black comforter when I got woke up. "Jack, there's a ship comin up on us hard and fast."

"What?" I mumbled mostly still asleep.

"There a ship," Joey said rubbing his eyes. "Come from that way." He pointed out on the horizon where the sun was beginning to rise.

"Seriously?" I asked him sitting up in bed.

"I would have told you sooner but I fell asleep." He said with a yawn.

"You fell asleep?" I repeated falling back into the sheets. Of course he fell asleep. He didn't trust the night navigator I'd hired. He was leery of all the new crew members I'd hired. He said these were new people, guys who didn't know about me or my father or even what it's like to be loyal to a captain. The past two weeks now, Joey would relieve the new navigator of his duties and take over both all day and night. "Do you know who it is at least?" I asked him staring up and the dark wood planks above my bed.

"I don't know," He said with another yawn. "It looks like that goon Jeff Smithson." That's great. He's one of the most notorious robbers in the pacific. He also caught wind of the fact that the Ambrosia had currently been dealing a lot in the antiques business. He was under the impression I had recently gained fifteen million dollars. It's less than that in case you were wondering, much less. I usually ended up donating most of the stuff I found. As long as I got the credit for the find.

"Great," I said up pulling my linen gray cargo pants on. "Give me a sticky," I said pulling the side of my tank top up long enough for him to put a small sticker on my ribcage. "Track me, then come get me with the crew." I said pulling a gun out of the cabinet nailed to the wall and shoved it in the back of my pants.

Of course Joey had been right about who was trailing us. They threw a net over me and pulled me right in the water. I'm sure if Johnny had seen that one he would be laughing all the way into next week for my graceless yank in the water. When I told them I didn't have anything on the ship other than plants, I got strung upside down by my ankles in the hull of this crappy speed boat. I was lying about not having anything of value but of course they didn't know that. If they searched the ship, they would never in a million years find all that gold. They would never get onto the ship anyways. Hopefully by now Joey had woken the crew and they were on their way to rescue the captain. Any minute now. Yup, they'll be here.

I saw a pair of legs coming down the stairs but of course that wasn't any of my crew. Instead it was Jeff grinning at me. "We seem to have lost the Ambrosia." He leaned down to look at my face.

"I'd help you, but all the blood has rushed to my head and I can't think properly." I said forcing a smile.

"I wouldn't have to hang you by your ankles if you'd just tell me where the gold is." Jeff told me standing up. He gave a quick jab into my ribs.

I took a deep breath and glared at him as best I could. "And that didn't help me think any better." I probably should have mentioned sooner that as soon as they had me off the Ambrosia, they took my gun and hung me upside-down. I've been hanging here for probably close to two hours now. "Not that I would tell you were the ship is." I said. He was standing up again, walking around me in a circle, spinning my legs occasionally.

"I think you're bluffing Jack," He leaned down to my face again, his stank breath hitting my cheek. Jeff wasn't a tall man, but he was beefy. He was American by trade, but last I heard he resided in Somalia to avoid any and all governments after him. "I don't think you know where you're ship is." Well, he has me there but there's one thing that he doesn't quite understand. The Sunset Ambrosia is outfitted with the latest in equipment. I don't know how any of it works but it does have one wonderful piece of technology that jams all sonar radios in the area. They won't see my ship coming.

"I know exactly where it is." I said looking at him. My head was really starting to ache at this point. At least he hadn't hit me much, just a few punches to the gut.

"Well it's certainly not here." Jeff said with a hearty laugh. He was still missing his front two teeth. I had knocked one of those out last year when he tried to sneak aboard my ship and steal some cargo I had been running. I had heard the other one was knocked out in some bar fight in a Russian bar. Dumbass always had to mess with the Russians. Even I knew better than that.

"If it was, do you think I'd be dumb enough to tell you they were here?" I asked rolling my eyes.

"Stupid little girl," He shook his head. "Now you can either tell me where you're hiding all that gold, or we can do this the hard way," He leaned down once again next to my ear. "And that doesn't end so pretty for you."

I looked past him and in the small portion of blue skies I could see, the tip of a gray sail moved in until it was blocking the sky. I turned my head to face Jeff's ugly mug, our eyes meeting as my mouth curled into a smile. "Would you like to know where my ship is?" I said as one of his crew members hollered down into the galley. "Its right here, about to blow your pathetic boat into a million pieces." I told him softly before I rammed my forehead right into his in a rough headbutt. He slid down to the floor as the sound of gunfire played out above me and a mass of feet went scurrying about.

"And I suppose none of them are going to help me," I mumbled to myself as I wiggled around, my hands still tied behind my back until the razorblade I had hide in the waistband of my cargo pants came loose. The cords binding my hands were easy to get off, the ones around my ankles weren't so much. I had to swing up until I could catch hold of the beam where my feet were bound.

I got free falling gracefully onto my butt and sat there for a moment trying to get my bearings. The sudden rush of blood to my brain was a whole new pain, particularly right in the middle of my forehead. I shook it off and stood up, another moment of waiting to get my balance back and I was off again grabbing my revolver on the way out. Sheer chaos was the only word to describe the scene on deck of the yacht-like boat. Jeff's crew was shooting frantically at the Ambrosia while my crew was preparing the cannons.

Wait, preparing the cannons. That thought reminded my now was a good time to get the hell away from here. "Where do you think you're going girlie?" A grimy hand grabbed hold of my wrist as I turned to face a man, face half hidden behind a scruffy dark beard.

"Decidedly not here," I said punching him square in the nose with my free arm. I ran to the side and yelled over to the Ambrosia getting a rope swung over in return. "You know this only works in movies!" I yelled back to Joey.

"Just swing over, I'll catch you." He yelled back. I could see two of the six cannons below deck being rolled out. It was either swing over and pray I land softly or wait for the explosion to send my fifty feet into the air.

"This better work," I shook my head, held my breath, and wrapped the rope as tight as I could around my wrist and let go of the boat. The Ambrosia came upon me pretty fast, faster than Joey was expecting as he stood on the deck with his arms out waiting to grab hold of me. Instead I bowled him over landing square on top of him. "I told you it only works in movies."

"I think you broke my ribs," He wheezed as he sat up after I rolled off him.

"You're fine you big baby," I said standing up and shoving my gun back into my pants. I held my hand out for him to take and hauled him back to his feet. "Call it payback for the two hours I spend hanging by my ankles upside down." He just shrugged at me.

"You said wake the crew and come after you." He reminded me.

"Yes but I meant it in a more immediate sense," I told him and leaned over the stairs to the galley below. "Blow them to kingdom come boys." I said and held my hands over my ears as the cannon blasts rang out. "And next time you people let me stew that long, I'll be loading you into the cannons." I said walking off towards my cabin. I needed aspirin. And vodka.

By the time we'd made port in New Orleans, I was good and lit. The rope burns on my wrists and ankles stung less having been covered up with gauze and I'd almost forgiven the crew for not rescuing me sooner. Almost. Besides, we had another job to do. I had to forgive them. They unloaded the flowers we'd been charged with and started in on heaps of food. My favorite Mexican gangster, Juan, had recently moved to Venezuela to avoid the federalis, or the cartels, or both, I couldn't remember, but he'd gotten a craving for some bayou food. Hence the crate of frozen shrimp, crawfish, and lobsters currently sitting in the deep freeze a level below the crew quarters. Joey had tried to apologize but I hadn't really let him. I gave the crew orders to load the rest of the cargo and then take the night off. I'd made sure they knew to be back by dawn just as punishment.

I found myself sitting in a small bar in the old French Quarter listening to blues all night waiting for the owner to realize I was there. She was Frankie, a fiery redhead that seemed to be six feet tall, granted I wasn't much more than five feet myself so everyone looked that tall to me. Her dad had been part of my dad's crew with Joey when they were fishermen and occasional treasure hunters. I had my doubts that that was all they had done, but that's the story Joey gave me. Frankie and I had grown up together. Our moms had become friends, mainly because they had something in common, the fathers of their children were slightly useless in the parenting department. We both begged to differ. Her dad had nearly died the same day mine had, boating accident. Her dad had never been the same, brain damaged. He lived in a little rest home near Biloxi where I made sure he was well taken care of.

That night in particular, her place was hopping and she hadn't had a chance to sit down until the doors were locked and the rest of her staff was cleaning. The band was finishing up packing their things when she leaned over the bar across from me. She pulled out a glass for herself and refilled mine with whiskey. "Been a long time Jack," she grinned. We'd always joked that our fathers had wanted little boys instead of girls so we'd been given boy nick-names. A running joke between the two of us. "Heard you had some trouble with Sir William not too long ago."

"Not much," I took a drag from the cigarette I'd been dangling in my left hand and propped my head up with my right arm. Drinking all day tended to make the world kinder but wobblier. "He wanted something I had and when it didn't work out in his favor, he tried to kill me so I may have blown up a few of his ships." That was an understatement. The only reason he'd gotten away was because the only boat of his not on fire had pulled him out of the water. Sir William was my arch-nemesis if I had one. He used to control just about everything in the gulf coast. Used to being the key word there. I may have torched his house too for kidnapping Ellie before that.

Frankie leaned in a little. "Is it true?" She asked nearly whispering. "You found the key to the locket." She knew the stories from her dad. Hell, my locket and it's changing map killed my dad and maimed hers.

"The locket is the key," I whispered back. "To reading a book that contains the mysteries of our world."

Frankie stood up straight and smiled at me. "Nah, your shitting me again," she laughed and took a long drink for her glass. If she only knew.

A half hour later, I decided it was time to get back to the ship. I couldn't really remember which direction the ship was so I stumbled out hoping I would find my bearings once I got out there. Frankie had offered her guest room but her roommate didn't like me much, something about me being a drunken pirate bothered her. I started down the street seeing the first tinges of light on the horizon. I thought I recognized the street I had turned on but then I wasn't sure. Nothing about it looked familiar. In fact, it looked dodgy at best and I missed the guns I had left back in my cabin. I froze in my tracks seeing someone in the corner of my eye. I stopped and looked down an alley between buildings. Newspaper scattered in the light breeze fluttering at the feet of the man standing at the end, a man wearing a bright orange Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants, Sir William. We stood staring at each other for a second before a car alarm started to go off down the street from me. In the brief second I turned my head, he vanished. I kept staring at where he used to be though, waiting for him to pop back so at least that way I knew I wasn't losing my mind.

The problem with not paying attention to the road behind me is that it's the perfect opportunity for someone else to conk me on the back of the head with, oh let's say a pipe. My world went red as pain flooded my brain and spread down my neck and into my bones before everything turned blank.


	2. 2 Making Deals with Dead Men

Chapter 2 Making Deals with Dead Men

I vaguely remembered a cloth sack being thrown over my head and the ensuing car ride to god knows where. The only thing I knew for certain when I woke up was that I was tied to a chair with the sack still over my head. My face was hot and I pulled at my arms feeling them catch. They were tied together with more, you guessed it, rope. My feet had been given the same treatment, each tied to a leg of the chair. I ran my hand across the back feeling the intricate pattern of the wood and the nails were the back met the seat. I rocked a little careful not to tip myself over and felt the weight of the chair. I had no weapons and no idea where I was but I thought I could get the chair apart. That was the good thing about owning a wood ship. I knew how nails and glue behaved. I pulled at the nails holding the back together until I had five of them in my hands. This chair probably looked pretty but it wasn't exactly sturdy.

"How long are we gonna watch her do this?" A woman's heavily accented, voice cut through the air and I stopped dead in my tracks. I hadn't heard anyone moving about before so I thought I'd been alone.

"Go ahead," a man this time and the sack was pulled off my head roughly. My messy hair had fallen out of it's tie and I could feel it sticking up around my head. The rest of the waist length mess tangled against the chair. I looked around, letting my eyes adjust to the bright sunlight filtering in through the picture windows. I was in a kitchen and breakfast nook, thank you Ellie for teaching me that word. There were woods to one side of the house and a swamp to the other so that didn't really help tell me where I was. I turned back to the two people in the room. The woman had short, black hair with fringe in her eyes. She was dressed smartly in a black skirt with a slit up the side and a tan sweater tank top. The man was dressed just as neatly in a pair of gray dress pants and a blue button up shirt, his tie lying out on top of his matching jacket on the table in front of him like he was getting ready to go somewhere important. I knew these people, well I knew him more than her. He was the reason I'd avoided Boston in my earlier years. At least until he'd died.

"What exactly were you planning on doing?" The man asked me.

I smiled at him as best I could and tried to think of a smart answer but my clumsiness beat me to it and the chair collapsed underneath my weight into about a thousand different pieces. "That," I told him wishing my hands weren't still tied behind my back. "But much more graceful."

He gave a low chuckle and the woman helped me to my feet. She pulled out a knife from one of the cabinets next to her and slit the rope on my hands. "Sit," the man motioned to the chair across from him.

I reluctantly did as he asked mainly because I wasn't sure how many men were between me and escape nor how much swamp lie between me and my ship. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I asked and rubbed at my wrists. The angry red lines were back, even deeper now and they stung. I wanted booze but thought better of asking them. My hand went to the back of my head feeling the wound from earlier still slowly seeping into my hair.

"Don't you want formal introductions first?" He asked and motioned to the woman. She sat down next to him easily and grinned at me.

"I know exactly who you are," I told him. "Paul Smecker, deceased, and Eunice Bloom, wanted by her former employers." I sat back in my chair to sulk. "And I assume you know who I am so once again, why did you kidnap me?"

"Business proposal," Smecker said and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He offered my one but I waved him off. He shrugged and took one for himself.

"I don't do business with people who kidnap me."

Smecker laughed again, deep from within his chest. "Funny on Jack," he took a deep breath and lit his cigarette.

"Fine," I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. "I don't do business with dead men."

"Fair enough," he said and picked up an envelope sitting on the empty chair next to him. "You will help me or I'll make sure the FBI knows your brother and his girlfriend regularly hide you."

"For starters," I grinned at him, "they live in my house with my name on the deed, plus I'm not wanted by the FBI."

He didn't say anything but instead opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of full-paged color pictures, gruesome pictures of dead men. Some were shot, some were burned, a few had stab wounds. I knew them all because I had killed them. "I'm sure the FBI would love to get their hands on these pictures."

"You wouldn't," I said but my heart had grown colder in the past few seconds. "You helped the Saints because you think what they do is right. Why is okay for them to kill bad men while I can't?"

Smecker looked at me and then picked up a picture and studied it closely. "Because I don't need their help, I need yours," he pushed all the pictures back into the envelope slowly, like he was giving me time to think over my options. "I know you don't care enough about your life to avoid living the rest of your life out at sea, but how long can you keep your best friend and your brother on your boat?"

"Ship," I corrected him. He had a point. I knew it was only a matter of time before the lovely FBI found something to charge me with and then I'd be forced out of America. Ellie, on the other hand, probably couldn't live that life even if she really wanted to. "What do you need me for?" I asked him softly.

"We're planning to get them out," Bloom interjected.

I laughed at both of them. Smecker didn't see what was so funny and glared at me. "And we need someone to go get them, help them out, take them places for a couple of months."

"I don't think so," I tried not to laugh. I stopped once seeing neither one of them being in on my joke. "Did you not just see what was in your little envelope? I'm as bad as all those men and last time I checked, the Saints made it their calling to kill all bad men. I'm not putting myself or my crew at risk."

"You won't be on their list," Smecker said confidently. Bloom didn't look so sure.

"No," I shook my head and stood up.

"Fine," Smecker said. "I just hope you can make it back to California before the FBI does."

I spun on my heel and grabbed the knife Bloom had used on my wrists. She'd forgotten she'd had it still, she must have been getting sloppy without her regular job. "If you hurt either one of them, I'll kill you myself."

He looked down to the knife I was holding to his throat. "You wouldn't make it out the door." His eyes turned back to me. "And my backup plan will go into effect and they'll still end up in jail."

An hour later, I was back on my ship. I climbed the plank slowly as the crew turned to me. I could tell they were thinking I was hung-over and in the mood to prove a point by making them show up early while I got to stay out until ten in the morning. "Set sail!" I barked at them. "We're going to Boston."

I slammed the door to my cabin so hard the frosted glass shook. I sat down in my big, fluffy purple chair and pulled my tee-shirt up over my head. It was stained with blood on the back anyways, I just hoped it hadn't sunk into the gray tank-top I had on underneath, I'd just bought it not more than three weeks ago. I pressed the ruined tee-shirt to the back of my head as Joey barged in. "Jack, what the hell are you doing?"

"Currently bleeding," I told him but he wasn't happy with that explanation. "We have to pick something up in Boston."

"But we have to drop the food off in Venezuela."

"We'll only be a few days off course. How mad could Juan be?" I knew how mad he could be. He was going to shoot me when I got there but that was better than the alternative. I could take a bullet if that meant I didn't have to be glared at every second of the day by Ellie.

"What are we picked up in Boston?" Joey asked knowing better than to question my authority any further. He was my dad's first mate, but that would only save him for so long.

"Not what, but who."


	3. 3: The Real FBI and Their Newest Agent

a/n: Slight delay in new chapters since my computer died but back on track here! I promise, no more two and a half week intervals.

Chapter 3- The Real FBI and their Newest Agents

Smecker beat me to Boston. For someone who was supposed to be dead, he sure got around. Then again, I suppose I could get anywhere is a hurry too if I were protected by the Catholic Church. There was a tall woman with long blonde hair cascading down her back waiting for me by the pier when we docked. She was wearing the type of long, tight red dress I could never get away with wearing every day, or any day for that matter. It was still daylight but the summer sun was quickly sinking in the distance. The woman kept her sunglasses on as she waved at me, leaning slightly against one of the wooden light posts at the pier. I told Joey to wait for me before doing anything and changed into the only jeans I had that weren't completely shredded along with a blue plaid shirt cuffed at my elbows.

She was still waiting patiently for me as I lowered the plank down to the wood creating the temporary bridge between myself and the real world. Most days I was glad that link was so easily broken. "I thought you'd never get here," she huffed in a voice far too high to be real. She had a slight southern accent like someone had been listening to the former agent Bloom too much.

"And here I thought you'd make an ugly woman," I grinned at Smecker as he pulled a thin black cardigan over his shoulders. I briefly wondered where he bought his chick clothes. He was skinny and all but still had too broad of shoulders to be a woman.

"How's all this gonna work?" I asked him and looked over my shoulder to the ship. My crew of about seventeen men were all looking over the railing to see who I was talking to. I'd be curious too if I was in their position.

"Take me some place nice," he smiled sweetly not getting any of the red lipstick on his teeth. Just another example of someone else being better at being all girly than me. I was doing good to get my eyeliner on my eyes everyday and that was mostly just to scare people with the heavy lines.

"I thought that was my line," I pulled my own sunglasses onto my face despite the sun dipping lower into the water. The lights along the docks were starting to pop on one by one.

"Not dressed like that," he pointed to my jeans. Sure they didn't have big gaping holes, but one leg was slightly longer than the other from being caught on a fishing hook. Well, caught and hook sound better than shot and fishing spear.

"Everyone's a critic," I shook my head and started walking. "Besides," I called back over my shoulder as he slowly started to follow. "I nearly brushed my hair today." I knew he rolled his eyes underneath the sunglasses but chose to ignore it. He didn't question where we were going but quickly caught up to match my stride, wasn't difficult since I'm only about five feet tall.

Boston had always been my father's town. He loved it more than any other place he'd been despite the brutal winters. He told me once it was because his parents were both Irish and he fit in better here. I thought it was just because he didn't fit in with the landlocked German farmers in Ohio where my mother had settled. Besides, he didn't do nearly as much illegal running as my mom liked to believe. He was mostly a fisherman and his waters were cold and Northern, near New England. I'd been here dozens of times visiting him, occasionally working on his boat, but it never felt right. I like the warmer waters and sunken treasure and Boston held too many ghosts. Sometimes it felt like he was still here, breathing in the sea air and visiting his favorite pub.

I knew of a coffee shop near the harbor where we could sit and talk without anyone thinking it too odd, a nearly six foot tall woman and another midget who's only feminine trait was the tangle of blonde hair down my back. It was out of the way, off any main streets, small and content. When we walked in, it wasn't busy, only a couple at a table in the front and a few people scattered around the bar and the couches near it sipping their lattes and casually reading or looking forlorn and pretentious. I picked the booth the furthest away from the big windows at the front and took a seat where I could watch the whole of the shop. A waitress with short brown hair and more piercings through her face than I ever thought she could have fit came over and I ordered black coffee for the both of us. Smecker raised a manicured eyebrow at me. "What?" I asked. "You decided I should be the man remember?"

He gave a sly smile as the cups were sat out in front of us. I'd wanted a blueberry scone but I didn't want him to think I would be staying any longer than necessary. Boston made me twitchy. "So," I watched him take a sip of the coffee and carefully set the mug back on its saucer. "Can we talk about how you're getting them onto my boat and what I'm to do with them after?"

He leaned forward a bit. "Aren't we going to finish our coffee?" His fake boobs were bigger than my real ones.

"I don't make a habit of dining with FBI agents, even dead ones and I'm sure you'd rather not spend more time with a pirate," I said and dumped an entire sugar packet into my coffee. That was followed by a shot of whiskey from the flask in my shirt pocket. I offered it to him but he waved it off.

He was quiet for a moment, watching me sip my coffee slowly, like he was trying to figure me out. I'm sure he could spend years trying to figure me out and he still wouldn't understand why I hated Boston so much or even why I'd given up trying to convince people I wasn't a pirate. Finally, he looked down at his mug and took another long sip sine it was starting to get cold. He left a red smudge on the rim when he set it down. "There's an intricate plan being executed as we speak to break the fugitives known as the Saints out of the Hoag," he was using his man voice.

Just as he paused a boom rang out and the coffee shop shook a little. I didn't flinch but he sure did. "Was that part of your intricate plan?" I asked.

"Apparently," he grimaced. "You don't need to know the details other than they will be arriving at the harbor in an hour in one large cargo container. There will be a second, smaller one with them with their belongings including the guns confiscated by the FBI when they were arrested."

"And then what?"

"You take them where they want to go," I started to protest but he held up a hand to quiet me. "Anywhere."

"Fine," I sat back in the plush red cloth of the booth. "Just one trip."

"Not quiet."

I knew what he was getting at. He wanted me to be their transportation because I was slightly above international laws. "Oh no. I don't want them on my ship any longer than they have to be," I nearly screeched at him.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged and pulled his mug to his lips again.

"You wouldn't," I dared him to turn me into the FBI with a big bow tied to my head and carrying the evidence they needed to throw me away for life. "They shouldn't be making waves anyways."

"They have a calling from god."

"That's what worries me," I folded my arms across my chest and pouted for a bit. "I have conditions. They will work like everyone else and they can't be connected to my ship."

"Fair enough," Smecker agreed. "For a year."

"And what if they try to kill me?" I asked. Smecker didn't say anything and kept his eyes lowered. "Great, thanks for that," I stood up and put a few bills onto the table.

"Jack," He caught my arm and stopped me before I could get any further. "There are plenty of other bad guys in the world for them to kill."

"Yeah but they aren't sharing quarters with any of them," I reminded him. "I'll do six months."

I left Smecker at the coffee shop and walked back to the ship slowly. I stopped and picked up a few crates of lobster, some for the crew, but most for Juan. I had to explain my unexpected trip to Boston somehow. Besides, thinking about the drug dealer that wanted to kill me was easier than the religious whack jobs who were going to want me dead. I followed the pick-up truck with my lobsters lazily only to find that I really shouldn't have taken so much time getting back. My ship was surrounded by black cars, some with flashing lights, and men in suits racing about. The real FBI this time.

I quickened my step but was stopped by an agent at the end of the plank. "Let her pass," I heard from the deck.

"Ah Agent Miles, I didn't know LA Harbor Patrol could reach this far," I looked up at him as I climbed the plank until I was standing next to him. The men were swarming about the ship like ants searching for their missing queen. "Although," I stopped in front of the man who had been trying his damnedest to put me in jail for ten years, "it looks like you've gotten yourself a new job." He looked older than I remembered. His hair had grayed more and lines stretched out from the corners of both eyes.

"What are you doing in Boston Jack? You never come this far north," he kept his hands in his pockets but I'm sure they were gloved. I could see through the open doors to my cabin it was trashed.

"Oh the usual mayhem and chaos," I leaned against the mast watching several agents start to filter off the ship. "Find anything interesting?"

Agent Miles looked down at his shoes and snorted. He never founds anything in any of these searches. He only made a mess of my ship because he didn't know about the secret compartment behind the engine room or the empty cabinet in the galley or the loose floorboards in my cabin. "One of these days Jack I'm going to catch you."

I pushed off the mast so I could look him in the eyes better. "And then what would you do with your time I wonder. Would you retire or just find something else to obsess over?"

His face flushed red and he pulled his hands out of his pockets. Rubber gloves mind you. "Jack," he growled at me. "You're a smart woman and I hope to God I'm the one who catches you because one day you're going to make a deal with the wrong person and you won't be able to talk yourself out of it." For a second I thought he might care about me but then that faded as the semi truck containing the saints rolled in and stopped a few piers over. Maybe I was in over my head with this one.

The FBI left and I inspected my cabin briefly. My purple bed sheets were tossed about along with my maps and books and the stray bottle of rum. I went in and popped the floorboard near my bed. My dad's locket, the silver one that red the even pages of the book I'd found, was the first thing my hand made contact with. It was still perfect despite the mess around me. Then again, I didn't think either of the lockets or the book really could be destroyed.

"Jack," Joey stopped in my door and looked at the state of my cabin. I was sure his cabin down below as well as the open space at the bottom of the stairs where the crew slept, was in a similar state of disarray. "They're here," he handed me a packing slip from the driver of the truck, not that I'd need it with the FBI gone.

"Fruit," I murmured reading it over. "Fitting," I slipped the paper into my desk drawer and pushed the floorboards back in place. I grabbed my rifle and met the seven men not essential to getting the ship moving down in the cargo hold where the crates had been placed.

"Pop the top," I told Joey readying my rifle. The rest of the crew were armed and ready as well just in case but mostly to leave an impression with the Saints, we were not to be harmed.

Joey got one side off and let it slam to the ground revealing the three men inside. One of the twins stood, the lighter haired one while the darker one and the Mexican with the longest mullet I'd ever seen in real life sat against the wall. "Well," the lighter one started. "It's about fucking time." He was smiling until he noticed all the guns pointed at his head. "That's not a proper way to greet us."

"Not a greeting," I warned and kept the rifle pointed at him. The other twin stood and helped the Mexican to his feet. I'd heard he was still recovering from the incident that led to their incarceration. "I'm Jacqueline Di Ambrosio and you're on my ship," I said frowning as much as I could.

A look passed between the twins and then they laughed. "You're Captain Jack?"

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," the lighter one tried to keep from laughing but it seemed to be a struggle. "We just expected someone a little less," he paused and then outlined womanly curves with his hands. The other one burst into laughter again and I felt my anger boiling over. I never had learned how to control that.

"This is going well," Joey commented.

I rolled my eyes and turned around to face the crew. "Take the two of them to the brig and put the Mexican to work!"


	4. 4: A Brief Break From Reality

Chapter 4 –A Brief Break From Reality

That night I dreamed of space. I'd gotten the ship back out in the Atlantic and pointed her towards South America but the winds weren't in my favor and I was worried about the mass murderers three floors below me. Juan was going to shoot me for being late assuming the Saints hadn't gotten to me before then. After a half a bottle of rum, I slipped off into what I'd hoped was going to be a peaceful sleep. And it was, mostly, for a while. I was floating above the Earth, all blue and white below me. I was content. There was no Juan or Saints or cargo or Joey mistrusting the new crew members, just silence, The moon was just out of my line of sight and the sun blazed bright off in the distance, just a tiny bright light. I wished everything would stay this quiet and peaceful forever, just me floating along with no worries.

Everything changed, as usual. Gravity kicked in and pulled me straight down to Earth, literally. I didn't mind the feeling of falling, when I dreamed most of the time it was about that, but usually I woke up. This time the ground didn't get any slower. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to think about what happens to you if you die in your dreams while I waited for the impact. I kept waiting and waiting yet nothing happened. "Open your eyes Jack," I knew that voice.

I slowly opened one eye and realized there was soft, squishy ground underneath my feet. Water rushed around me but it didn't seem to be making any noise. It was dark here but the pool of water in front of me sparkled blue glowing faintly. Dark rocks lined the water and created a massive water fall that I could see the top of. Each rock glittered like the diamonds in my lockets. Dark green leaves attached to big branches that didn't seem to be connected to anything. My eyes were wide open not getting enough of what I was seeing.

"It's been a long time." That's when I noticed him, the voice from before. He stepped out from behind some of the leafy branches to stand next to me. He wore a rumple black suit but he looked the same as I remembered.

"Did I drink too much and die in my sleep?" I asked him as he sat down on the black rocks and dangled his bare feet into the water. I had buried him without shoes because I couldn't find any in the mess of an apartment in Boston.

"No Jacqueline," he laughed and patted the rocks next to him. I carefully approached him, trying not to get too close. His beard was still gray and scruffy like his dark hair but his green eyes still shone.

I slowly sat down without bumping him in case this was real and he was a zombie or something. I dipped my feet into the water, warmer than I'd expected. "Did I have a brain hemorrhage?"

"You're not dead," he laughed.

"Figured that but thought I should check for brain damage." I looked ahead at the silent waterfall. "I found the book."

"We're not here about the book or the lockets. They can't help me now," he frowned for a second.

"Why are you here dad?" I asked him bluntly. I hadn't dreamed about him in years.

"To warn you," he looked me over taking in every scar like he wasn't a hallucination. "Something big is coming."

"Great," I rolled my eyes. It seemed like every time I turned around I heard that. Mystic oracles, aliens, voodoo priestesses, and now ghosts. I was becoming a magnet for the weird. Then again it's possible I'd died years ago and this was my eternal punishment.

"You've almost chosen the right path," he said and stood so suddenly I didn't feel him move. "But the Saints aren't to be harmed."

"I know, Smecker told me," I groaned. He offered his hand and didn't move until I let him help me up. He was just as solid as I was which was slightly unnerving, not exactly helping with the thinking I was dead thing.

"No," he shook his head, frustrated because I apparently didn't understand him. "You have to help them, keep them alive." He turned back to the waterfall. "Beautiful isn't it?"

"I don't understand any of this," I mumbled.

"You will," he smiled at me and turned again without me noticing. He pulled me into a quick hug and kissed my cheek before whispering into my hair, "wake up."

I sat straight up in bed. Sweat dripped off me and onto the sheets despite the cool New England breeze seeping in through the bank of windows along the far wall. "Damn, now I'll never get back to sleep."

I tried, I really did, to sleep but it never came. I changed into a baggy pair of camo shorts and a white tee shirt and watched the sun rise. I steered the ship at the helm at the front of the ship for a while after that but the ocean wasn't as choppy as the day before and the winds had settled down. I didn't have much to do so I decided about mid-morning to have a chat with our latest guests. Romeo, the Mexican, had been given the task of patching up the spare sail. He didn't look so happy but he was working. The other two I wasn't sure what to do with. I walked down the stairs to the room across from the engine room. I hadn't locked the outer door so I pulled the heavy wood open. There wasn't much light, just the one bare light bulb over the two cells.

They were both sitting on the blankets that had been thrown into their cells when I went in. "So someone finally decided to check on us," the lighter haired one growled. I was beginning to think his brother was mute.

"Figured I should make sure you hadn't croaked yet," I gave a fake smile to them. "Which one of you's which? Smecker never told me."

A look passed between them and the lighter one spoke again, "I'm Connor and this is my brother Murphy."

"Good to know,"

"Are you going to let us out?" Connor asked and stood, crossing the five foot span of his cell. Murphy sat still in the next one over staring at me and I was struck by the intensity of his eyes, that and I always went for the dark and brooding.

"No," I said after a second. "I don't trust you."

Connor nodded his head but it didn't take a genius to see he was pissed. Murphy on the other hand seemed fine with voicing his anger. "You can't keep us locked here," he spat.

"My ship, my rules," I said and turned to leave.

"What about food?" Connor yelled after me. "And we need a change of clothes."

"I'll think about it," I hollered back wondering what would happen if I ignored my dream.

I found out later what happens when I ignore warnings from ghosts. Joey had pestered me all afternoon about starving the Saints. He didn't think it was right despite the fact that he didn't want them on the ship. I spent the afternoon hiding out in my cabin mapping out our route. I knew where we were going but Joey didn't need to know that. I'd fallen asleep hungry myself but with being kidnapped and then my dream keeping me up, I was exhausted. The thunder woke me up a little after midnight. I went to the windows and looked out seeing dark clouds blocking out the moon. Strings of rain hung from the clouds but it was still a ways off and looking like it was going the opposite direction. My stomach growled louder than the thunder and I slowly opened the door to my cabin. The deck was empty and I could see the faint glow of the lights from the navigation room above me. I snuck down the stairs checking to make sure Joey's lights were off in the cabin closest to the open crew quarters. I slipped into the galley and made a sandwich standing over the small sink. The cargo hold and infirmary (cot nailed to the wall of the former pantry) was beyond the galley as well as the deepfreeze. I could see the stairs that led down to the secret storage room as well as the hold from my spot near the sink. I stood for a moment sipping a beer I'd pulled from the fridge. The lights were still off but I could clearly see Romeo slip down the stairs heading to the brig.

I shook my head, took a long swig of the beer, and followed him down making virtually no noise. I could be quite sneaky when I really wanted to be, granted the falling down due to my own clumsiness usually offset that. "Did you find the keys?" Murphy asked and I was amazed he actually had a voice.

"No, the crew wouldn't tell me where she keeps it," Romeo answered. I stood next to the open door pressing myself against the wood out of their sight.

"Well, she has to have it somewhere," Connor said and then was quiet for a moment. "Keeping looking though."

"I brought some food and water," Romeo told them and I heard some shuffling around in the two cells. "Her crew's gonna turn on her soon. They don't like any of us but they don't think it's right for her to leave you down here."

At that comment, I'd had enough. I stepped into the dim light blocking the doorway. "It's just Joey that thinks that." Romeo jumped nearly two feet into the air and spun around to face me. The twins didn't seem to be that surprised. They just looked at me with their weary blue eyes. Each was starting to grow a stubbly beard.

"You can't keep us here forever," Connor pointed out. "Besides, Smecker never said anything about cells."

"We could have just stayed in prison for that," Murphy added, glaring at me. They were definitely cute even though they seemed to hate me, for good reason.

"Romeo, go back to the crew quarters. If I catch you back down here, I will throw you off the side of this ship," I warned him and turned to the twins again. "And don't either of you give him any ideas about finding the key to these cells."

I turned to leave but Murphy yelled back at me, "he'll find the key you know."

I spun back around and walked up to the cell so that we were inches apart, only the bars separating us. "You want to know how I know that won't happen?" I asked him. "Because I keep the key right here," I pulled a frayed leather cord hanging around my neck from underneath my shirt and held it up for him to see as I ignored the fact that I barely met his shoulders. "And you'll have to pry it from my cold dead fingers first," I backed off again. "You can keep the food but you won't be coming out of these cells unless we're at port. And don't be making plans to knock down these bars. They're older than dirt but they're still strong. The boat could fall apart and these two would still be standing."

I motioned for Romeo to leave again when Connor stopped me this time. "Why isn't Romeo locked up?"

I grinned back at the two of them, "only two cells," I pointed out. "Besides, Smecker said I couldn't kill you two, never said anything about him,"

I left the two of them pondering that one and went back up to my cabin. Sleep came much easier that time and I drifted back into space. Didn't last long again and I was back at the waterfall, my dad in front of me shaking his head. "Let them out Jack."

"Or else what?"

"That," he pointed up and I woke up with a start, Joey shaking my shoulders.

"Storm," he huffed, "huge wave out of nowhere."

"Shit," I cursed and jumped out of bed. "Keep the crew below and lock the windows in the navigation room." I barked running out of the cabin. I could see the wave coming from behind us where the storm had been not more than a half hour ago.

"What are you going to to?"

I smiled at him. "Ride it out." He looked horrified but he did what I said shutting off the stairs leading to the galley and crew quarters. I stood at the front of the ship and tied a rope around my waist and then another to the mast. I took hold of the helm as the first surge lifted the ship. The wheel tried to move but I held strong. The second larger one loomed in front of me, nearly thirty feet tall. I don't know how I held the boat upright but my hands stayed glued to the wheel. Water roared all around me but I could only hear my dad's voice in my ears. The wave passed and I slumped over the wheel.

"Jack, radar shows another one coming on stronger," Joey yelled down from the navigation room.

I closed my eyes wondering how much more of this I could take. "You can stop it," my dad's voice whispered in my head. I untied myself and flew down the two flights of stairs to the brig. The twins were awake but I think everyone was after that wave crashed into us.

"What's going on?" Murphy asked.

I didn't answer them but unlocked Murphy's door first before getting Connor's. "I'll have the crew bring cots down in the morning. I don't want you mingling with the crew and you will not even think about guns or weapons until we make port in Venezuela. I'll find you work to do once the sun comes up."

They didn't get any time to say anything. I ran back up the steps and looked out across the water. It had evened out. "Wave's gone," Joey yelled down to me scratching his gray head.


	5. 5: Regularly Scheduled Programming

Chapter 5 -And Now Back to Regularly Scheduled Programming

I knew my day was going to end badly as soon as I walked out onto deck. The crew was more than their usual hostile towards me. I figured it had something to do with the Saints being allowed to walk around freely on the ship. I'd put them to work repairing more sails along with Romeo figuring that was something they could do without involving any of the crew. Most of the crew avoided them and glared at me. Things were a little tense to say the least. I'd never been happier to see land when we made port in Venezuela that's how bad things had gotten on the ship. I was glad to be heading towards land and a Mexican drug dealer who was planning on shooting me.

"I don't think you should go alone," Joey sat at my desk looking at me as I sat in my fluffy chair across from him.

"Not up for discussion," I warned him and rubbed at my temple. Two hours ago I'd had to yell at the crew for considering shooting the Saints and throwing them overboard. An hour ago I'd had to mediate a fight between the twins. Now Joey seemed determined to help my head ache along.

"Okay, how about you letting the Saints out of their cells?"

"Yesterday you were mad at me because I wasn't feeding them," I reminded, "now you're mad because I let them out."

"Not letting them starve to death on your ship is completely different than letting them murder your crew," he said blankly.

"I don't want to talk about that either," besides, telling him my dad's been visiting my dreams with creepy messages made me sound a little crazy. Well, crazier.

"Fine," he threw his hands in the air. "I guess we have nothing to talk about then."

"Apparently not," I folded my arms across my chest stubbornly. "Send them in. I want to get going before Juan comes to shoot me here."

"Send who in?"

"Who do you think?" I gritted my teeth knowing he was being just as stubborn. Some days I didn't think he remembered I was the captain of the ship instead of just being his best friend's daughter. "And tell the crew to get the seafood packed up."

"Yes ma'am," his teeth were gritted too but he left and I assumed he was doing as I asked. I didn't want to have to leave him in a foreign country to teach him a lesson.

I stood up and pulled my backpack out of the dark oak wardrobe and set it out on my bed. Sure enough, Joey actually listened to me for a change and the twins were standing in the doorway to my cabin. "You wanted us?"

Well, that was a play on words and Connor knew it. They both grinned as I sighed. "Come in," I went back to the pack, throwing in a walkie talkie. "Did Smecker tell you anything after he met with me?"

"We work like the rest of the crew and not to let anyone connect us to you?" Murphy asked more than told me.

"Exactly," I said and went over to my gun cabinet. It was more a chest filled with fire arms. I pulled out two handguns and loaded them before throwing them into the backpack. "Do you have a plan?"

Another look passed between the two of them. "Well," Connor started. "Not exactly."

"It doesn't really work like that," Murphy added.

I sighed and went for two more smaller guns and sat on the bed. "So, how does this mission from God thing work then?" I asked them and rolled up the legs of my baggy jeans to strap the guns there.

"Things just kind of fall into place," Connor started.

"Reassuring," I mumbled. That was how my day was going. I stood up and strapped two more guns to the sides of my ribs and pulling my tank top down. Neither one of them said anything. I picked up the last gun and stuffed into the back of my pants. That would be the first place they looked when I got there, but it made me feel better with the two Saints sitting in front of me. "Okay, here's how it'll work then. Until you get a plan together, you can only leave this ship when we make port. You do your job or not, I don't care but that's the only opportunity I'll give you. I have a job to do too so you go where I go."

"And where's that per say?" Murphy asked me grinning a little.

I pulled a white button up shirt on to cover the bulk of the weapons and looked at him. "I don't know yet." And with that the two of them started laughing again. I had a plan, sort of. If Juan didn't have anything to do, I planned to follow one of the pages of my book, maybe Blackbeard's treasure. "Not helping either one of you."

"Sorry," Murphy laughed and tried to calm himself. "When do we get our guns back?"

"When you're not on my ship," I growled and slipped my feet into my sneakers.

"Wait, you're allowed gun but not us?" Connor asked. "Doesn't seem that fair to me."

"Captain," I referred to myself again. "Besides, I'm going to go get shot now. If you three want to venture off the Sunset Ambrosia, don't go far. I have a feeling we'll be making a quick get away."

"Where are you going?" Murphy asked, his eyes stuck to the scar on my collarbone from a knife fight. I quickly finished buttoning the shirt and slung the backpack over my shoulder.

"And with all those guns while we're not allowed to be in the same room as ours?" Connor added.

"Delivery job," I told them simply but they didn't move. "And we're a little late and I'm a little accident-prone." They looked at each other and then back to me. "I have to go and you two have to get back to work." I said and pushed past them.

"What do you think brother?"I heard Murphy ask.

"I think she's bloody crazy," Connor replied.

Juan was not happy when I made it up to the mansion he'd bought. It reminded me of the one he kept in Mexico with the red paint and the courtyard in the middle, but I didn't think talking about architecture was going to impress him. His guards had found the guns in my bag and the one in my waist band, but not the others. That was a good thing as I sat down across from him at his immaculate desk. He looked downright pissed enough to shoot me where I sat. "You're late," he grumbled at me.

"Through no fault of my own," I smiled at him but was perfectly aware of how many guns I'd passed to get to this point in his mansion. He'd brought me to his show office, the one he used for legitimate business. It had a large set of French doors looking out to a patio and then out to the sea. Ten guys were walking around out there in the bright afternoon sunshine which was less than guys guarding the inside of the house. The two in the room by the door would be a problem. "So," I turned back to him. "How's the wife?"

He folded his hands together across the immaculate desk and kept his eyes on me. "Where's my sword Jack?" He asked.

"What sword?" I said innocently. I knew what sword he meant. Our last run-in hadn't ended on exactly friendly terms and I'd taken a valuable Samurai sword for my trouble. Two months later, I'd sold it on the black market.

"Don't play dumb with me," his frown didn't fade.

"Oh hell," I grumbled. "It wasn't worth what you think it was, someone ripped you off."

"You sold my sword," Juan seemed vaguely hurt in his blue suit, the jacket hung over a chair in the corner but he still looked put together.

"I have a crew that needs fed and you only paid me half my money last time," I shrugged. Not to mention he'd tried to shoot me instead of paying me.

He stared at me for a minute and I began to wonder if he was planning on shooting at me again. Then he let out a huff of air and said, "I have another job for you." He picked up his hands and sat back in his chair. "That is, if you can promise to be on time."

I gritted my teeth into a smile. It would have been easy to tell him I had been forced into picking up three men who had just broken out of jail by a dead FBI agent who now apparently worked for the Catholic Church. I couldn't do that though, so I sat and smiled. "What kind of job?"

"My wife," he motioned to the picture of a pretty Hispanic woman sitting on his desk. "She misses Mexico," he paused and looked at the picture. "So I was thinking of ways to bring Mexico to her."

I laughed a little as I thought about that one. Juan was wanted there by not only the Federales but several cartels. He must have done some kind of number on his wife if she could miss that. Either that or she just wanted him dead. I could see either one. "So what do you want me to do?"

"I have a house in Miami," he said. He hadn't cracked a smile since I'd walked in. He was planning to shoot me again, job or no job. "I want you to bring some things to me."

"Things like what?" I asked. He knew I didn't deal in guns or drugs.

"Furniture," he said simply. I knew there was more to this story so I rolled my eyes and waited for him to continue. He was an American regardless of how much Spanish he spoke or how thick his accent was. "The FBI wants my head."

"Like most people," I interrupted with a smile.

"If they search my home," he continued, ignoring my little outburst. "They would find certain items that could prove I was in the US when I wasn't supposed to be."

I was starting to get the idea now. He wanted me to pick up things the FBI was looking for because no one searching my boat could prove where the things came from. "I want fifty thousand."

"Jack, it's a two day trip at best," he laughed.

"To a house that may be watched by the FBI," I reminded him. I wasn't as wanted by them as he was, but with Agent Miles now one of them, they were bound to be looking for me as well.

"Fine," he sighed. "but only after you bring the things here," he said and I nodded my head. "My man running my American operations will be waiting for you. I assume you know where my house is?"

"Of course," I smiled. It was the biggest one facing the port. Everyone knew it.

"Here's your money for this job," he handed my back pack back to me, minus the guns of course. "It's short because you're late," he paused again. "My offer still stands on your book."

"I don't think so." It wasn't so much an offer as much as a threat to hand over the item that seemed to be bringing me fortune. "So, I should be off, you know, get there before warrants start flying." I made a move to get up but the two guys by the door took a few steps forward.

"There is one more thing Jack," Juan smiled at me this time. He was planning on shooting me. "I really liked that sword."

"I'll buy you a new one?" I asked him hoping with blind faith he would just let me go.

Of course I had no such luck and he waved his hand and the two goons grabbed my shoulders. "Take her down below, make her pay for," he paused and looked at me, "how ever much she sold my sword for."

The two goons tried to drag me but I dug my heels into the carpet and reached my hands under my shirt pulling the two guns out. I got the two in the room and the three more that came running in from outside. I had four guns with me still but there were more of them so I grabbed Juan and pulled the skinny man across the desk, gun pointed at his head. "Don't anyone move!" I yelled at them. "Juan and I are going for a walk." I said and pulled at him until he was standing straight up. We shuffled out the French doors, him blocking me from any of his guys.

"Now, that wasn't very nice," I told Juan once we got to the beach. His guys were all standing about fifty yards away watching me very carefully. "I'm going to take your job and when I come back, you're not going to shoot me." He didn't look happy but he nodded his head. I gave him one good push into the sand and took off running.

"Shoot her!" Juan yelled and a barrage of bullets whizzed past me. Fortunately, I reached a public beach before they could do any damage and the bullets stopped.

The Sunset Ambrosia was still where I parked her when I reached the docks. I climbed the plank throwing off my button-up shirt as I went along. The three Saints were sitting out on deck, Joey watching then carefully. "Delivery go well?" Connor asked me.

"Perfect."

"Is that why you're bleeding?" Murphy pointed at me.

I looked down at my right arm and sure enough, I had a gash from where a bullet had grazed me. I guess I was getting used to being shot. "Damn it!" I cursed and looked down at the white tank top I'd been wearing underneath. I had just bought that.


	6. 6: 24 Hour Doldrums

Chapter 6- 24 Hour Doldrums

"I thought you said he wouldn't shoot you?" Joey asked as he hauled me by my not-shot arm down to the infirmary.

"No," I corrected him. "I said just the opposite." I sat down on the cot and looked at my arm. Blood was slowly oozing off the side, drying in spots and staining the tank top.

"You said you could handle Juan," Joey stood back and slipped on a small pair of glasses. He gingerly picked up my arm and inspected the wound. "Ellie should be the one taking care of this."

"I don't want to put her in any danger," I raised an eyebrow at the mention of my doctor/actress best friend. She'd already been kidnapped by Sir William after watching half my crew executed.

"It's going to scar," he warned and went over to a small cabinet nailed to the side of the hull. He pulled out a bottle of pure alcohol and some thread, yes regular old sewing thread.

I looked up to find the three Saints looking into the small room. Connor and Murphy on the sides of the door while Romeo looked in. "Is she okay?" Romeo called out over top of the twins.

"I'm fine," I laughed a little. "Mere warning shot."

"Who did this?" Murphy growled and I was a little confused by their reaction. Both twins looked tense, like angry, gripping the wood frame to keep from running off the ship.

"Huh?" That was the only thing I could think of. Real smooth-like.

"It's just that we don't like to see little women picked on," Connor answered for all three of them.

Joey set down the needle he had been trying to thread and looked at me, half crooked smile parting his lips. We both burst into laughter at the same time, Joey nearly doubling over. "What?" Murphy glared at both of us.

"Nothing," I sputtered enjoying being able to laugh at them for a change.

"You think Jack's defenseless," Joey laughed and leaned against the wood of the hull to look at the three guys. "You're about the only one."

Joey laughed again but none of them seemed to see what was so amusing. "Who shot ya?" Murphy repeated gritting his teeth together.

I looked at them and decided a sarcastic comment wouldn't be the best idea. "Oh hell," I cursed, "there was a lot of shooting and I don't know which one got me." That was at least true. "Besides, this isn't the first time I've been shot."

The twins looked at each other, each one about to yell when another of my crew, Marko pushed past them. He looked down at my arm once and then back to my face. Joey had picked up the needle and was thoroughly missing the eye which the thread, very reassuring. "Captain, we have a problem."

"Juan find me?" I asked, gut reaction mind you.

"Not quite," Marko was another of my most trusted men. He was one of the few from my original crew. We'd picked him up in Spain and since then he'd picked up every woman in his path save me as well as ever std I could think of. "That navigation guy you hired," he bowed his head and looked at the floorboards. "He, um, didn't come back."

"What do you mean by didn't come back?" I asked. Joey was still looking at the needle but a grin was spreading at the corners of his mouth.

"His bunk is empty," Marko nodded and then backed out, probably afraid of the screaming match between Joey and I.

"Don't say it," I warned Joey and tried to stand up.

"Where are ya going?" Connor stood in my way.

"Someone has to go get us out to sea," I told them.

"I'll go," Joey stood as well. "I'm sure one of these guys could help you stitch that up. Looks like they have plenty of experience." Joey muttered to me. The twins let him pass.

"Sit," Murphy ordered as soon as Joey had left the room.

I reluctantly did so, mainly because I couldn't stitch my own arm, requires two hands, I've tried. Connor sat down next to me on the cot. "So," Connor asked as Murphy threaded the needle, "you make a habit of getting shot?"

"Seems to happen more than I'd like," I turned away from him to watch as Murphy ran the needle through the edge of the cut smoothly. He looked at my face apparently waiting to see me flinch or something.

"Where are we headed?" Murphy asked without looking from his work.

"Miami," I said shortly. Romeo was still standing in the door, leaning against the frame. "I have another job."

"Is it the man who shot you?" Murphy asked.

"I told you, I don't know who shot me," granted Juan was the one who had ordered me shot but I'd expected that when I left. "And besides, he had good reason," I mumbled more to myself. They were still looking at me. "I may have stolen a sword from him."

"This, over a sword," Murphy motioned to my arm.

"He liked that sword?"

After getting stitched up, I went back topside. The Saints seemed happy to sulk off thinking about what I had said. It was better that way anyways, didn't want to go make friends with the people that would probably try to kill me anyways. Just look at Juan. Although Juan creeped me out to no end while I couldn't get the feel of Murphy's rough hands on my arm. We were headed towards Florida, expected to make port by nightfall. "So what's the plan now?" Joey asked later on. We were standing in the galley attempting to make dinner for the crew. I hadn't left all the lobster with Juan so I figured that was a good treat for everyone. I hadn't thought about how much I disliked seafood before that though.

"Miami," I said shortly. Joey was standing over the wood burning stove with a big pot of water waiting for it to boil.

"I didn't mean about that," I looked over his shoulder to wear I was sitting on the counter. "The navigator issue and the Saints."

"I'm not talking about the Saints, I've already made my decision on them," I leaned over and looked to the big double sinks where there were a couple dozen lobsters swimming into tangles. "We'll find a new navigator in Miami."

"I think we shouldn't for a while, we've been going through them like water," he had a point there. Ever since Sir William's first attack on the ship, we'd had a terrible time filling the position. Four guys had come and gone in the past years alone. "And the crew's uneasy about them being on board."

"They aren't alone," I muttered.

"Hand me a lobster," Joey said and pointed to the tongs sitting next to me."

"They're still alive,"

"That's the point Jack."

"But that's mean," I said suddenly concerned about the welfare of my fishy friends. I'd heard they screamed when you dropped them into the water.

"You killed how many men today and you're concerned about the lobsters being boiled alive," Joey turned around.

"Just saying there has to be a better way to kill them," I looked back at the sink. "We could bash their heads in with a hammer or something."

"Great, I'll get the hammer, you try and hold one down," Joey laughed slightly.

"It can't be that hard," I picked up the tongs and sandwiched the torso, at least I hoped that was a torso, of one of the creatures between the tongs.

"Jack, don't," Joey warned, but as always he was a few seconds too late and the damn lobster stretched one of it's claws out and grabbed at my wrist. Bastard drew blood so I threw it on the ground. It looked around for a second, stunned at it's luck and made a grab for my ankle. I tried to pick it up with the tongs but it hissed at me. I hadn't known they could hiss until then.

"Oh to hell with this," I pulled out my revolver and shot three quick shots at it. The third one hit it and send it flying across the room.

"Oh good, I'll make sure you get the one that tastes like lead," Joey rolled his eyes.

And then I heard the snickering from the door. The twins were standing there laughing, tears nearly streaming from their faces as I inspected the new cut on my hand. "Don't you two start," I warned and fired another shot through the wall next to them.

After two hours of cooking, Joey had everything done. He said I was more of a hindrance and sent me off to my cabin to map out our route. I came out in time to be handed a plate. I sat down on the deck where the crew had brought out the lawnchairs and flipped on the tiny strings of Christmas lights strung along the masts. They were playing poker and listening to music and telling stories, the old past time for them when things got slow. The three Saints were sitting all alone in the corner watching everyone. I took a long swig of beer and sat down on the wood next to them. "Thanks for helping me today."

"We could help ya more if you'd stop being stubborn," Murphy pointed out.

"I don't need anyone to fight my battles for me," I reminded them.

"Aye, she is stubborn," Connor laughed.

I shook my head and grinned. "No, just not used to anyone thinking I need protection." I laughed a little and then sat for a moment. "You know, you could always join the crew. They aren't any good at poker and I'm sure you have far more interesting stories than any of them."

"They don't seem to be interested in us," Connor pointed out

"That's not it," I said. They all looked at me. "We're pirates. We cheat, steal, lie, and murder on a regular basis. They know your reputation and wonder how long before you try and kill us."


	7. Best Laid Plans

Chapter 7 Best Laid Plans

I liked Miami. People were far too wrapped up in themselves to notice me. Or my ship. There were no police waiting for me when I pulled into harbor, no one standing there with a warrant for my arrest. I waved to the harbor master on the way in and docked easily. The crew knew we wouldn't be staying long. Usually I tried to give them a few days off in Miami, lots of pretty girls, good food, and the beer was strong. Carrying "furniture" for Juan made me nervous though. Especially with Agent Miles now an actual agent. It wouldn't take him long to connect me with Juan.

I'd walked off the deck and stood until the Saints followed me, the only ones I was allowing off the ship since it wouldn't hurt my feelings if we'd left them behind in our haste to escape. Well, it might hurt a little. "You're going to have a heat stroke," I told the three of them without looking behind me to wear they stood. All three were wearing heavy jeans, black pea coats, and dark sunglasses. It was still ninety degrees outside despite being after seven at night. "Plus, you stand out," I added and turned around. Sure, my purple tank top and jeans cut off at the knees weren't high fashion, but they no one questioned it. I just looked like a dumb hick tourist who didn't own a brush. Or a bar of soap, I noted the grease stain on my left arm from where I was fiddling with the engine earlier.

"It's our trademark," Connor replied and glanced around the docks.

"You missed the point of laying low," I grumbled. The only other boats in this part of the harbor were a yacht that looked deserted and a sketchy schooner a couple of docks over. Three equally sketchy looking guys were sitting out on its deck keeping their eyes low, probably crooks up to no good or knew of my reputation, either way.

"Be back in two hours," I warned them and picked up my back pack. I pulled out six guns and a couple of extra clips. "Here but I get them back before you're allowed onto the ship again."

Connor's eyes lit up as he took the weapons. "Oh, I've missed you," he said to the guns.

"Wow, that's slightly disturbing," I handed the other guns over.

"Don't tell me you've never felt affection for the revolver you carry," Murphy grinned as he loaded one of the guns and slid it into a holster underneath the coat. Well, I guess the coats did serve a purpose of sorts.

"I don't like guns," I rolled my eyes and started walking. "Two hours!" I hollered back to them.

It took me less time to find Juan's Miami house than it did to find the one in Venezuela. It was bigger than the others on that road and modern, with straight lines and big windows and a pool that faced the sea. I figured this was the one he let his wife pick out, which would explain why he didn't spend much time here. Lack of respect for his trophy wife. That and the government was looking to put him behind bars for life.

I was met at the gate by the biggest Mexican I'd ever seen. This guy had to be at least six foot five with muscles on top of muscles. "You must be Captain Jack," he smiled in that creepy way that made you wonder if he's picture you naked or planning on shooting you.

"That would be me," I frowned.

"Guns?"

"Just the one," I pulled at a semi automatic and handed it over to him.

He looked it over before pulling the clip out neatly disarming it. Then he looked back to me like he was trying to figure out where else I could hide a weapon. "Search her," he turned to a young guy behind him. I hadn't noticed him before but that could be because he was skinny as a rail and maybe five ten. Nowhere near as big as the giant.

The kid looked me over and I pushed my arms out to my sides allowing him to run his hands down my sides and over my hips. They stop a little too long on my thighs and I raised an eyebrow to him. "Son, I'd suggest you back off now. I don't need a gun to make sure your teeth end up down your throat." He swallowed hard and stood back. At least I hadn't pointed out that his gun holster was too loose on his frame and the butt of his gun was swinging dangerously close to my hand.

"She's clean," he said in a squeaky voice before he retreated behind the Giant again.

"Follow me," the Giant said.

We went in a side door, more like a service entrance. The floor was marble and the walls painted a golden color but they were bare. Juan's houses always had fancy décor in the spaces where he brought people. He must not have trusted me anymore to instruct his men to make sure I came in through the service entrance. We passed through a kitchen filled with all stainless steel appliances and I remembered here that I was in Juan's house. I was led into a massive dining room where a dark oak table that could easily seat fifteen sat. Six places were set, three already occupied by men who looked like they been through the ringer a few times, each with full silverware settings and napkins on top of the salad plates.

"Juan wanted to apologize for shooting at you," The Giant pulled a chair out and motioned for me to sit down.

"Shot me, he shot me," I reminded and looked at the skinny kid who seemed to not know if he should wait for me to be seated before he sat down. "I don't know what the hell Juan's playing at with this but I don't have time."

"Make time," The Giant tapped the gun at his side. I reluctantly sat down and pulled the napkin off the plate and slide it onto my lap. The other three men looked me over but I ignored them as a pretty maid came in and heaped salad onto the plates in front of each of us. "Juan sends his regards and hopes this dinner makes up for his behavior."

"Is it poisoned?" I asked and leaned in to give the salad a whiff. The maid looked disappointed in me.

"No," The Giant took his own seat next to me, the kid on the other side. His gun was still too close to my side. "The furniture is ready to be loaded into the trucks. Once we finish dinner, the boys will start." He took a bit of his salad and crunched the crisp lettuce loudly.

"I don't have time, we need to be going now," I said.

"After we eat," he insisted and nudged at my forks. Great, now I was eating dinner with the Mexican mob.

I picked at the salad and took a few sips from the soup that came out next and wondered how many courses this meal consisted of. Then I tried to will the men to eat faster with my brain but that didn't work. What did work was the maid flying in screaming in Spanish so quickly that I couldn't catch what she had said. I figured it out when three guys in black ski masks and pea coats burst in the room and started shooting. I grabbed the kid's gun and shoved him and I under the cover of the table as the Giant took three shots to the chest. I guess it was a good thing he sat next to me, shielding me from the first round. I got a few shots off. "Fuck!" One of them yelled as I'd gotten him in the shoulder. Close enough, I was aiming for something more vital.

"Under the table!" Another one yelled.

It clicked in my head who they were then and I tried to shield the kid as best I could as I yelled, "Wait!" It was too late and the kid got hit in the head and pain exploded in my side. "Damn it!" I looked at the kid and wondered how old he was. I kicked as best I could until I was on the other side of the table. The three men circled around as I pushed myself against the wall looking at what had been the dinner Juan had set up. They walked around.

"Fuck, that little shithead got me in the arm," the one said and kicked a little at the kid and my blood boiled over. And out, I noticed and put my hand to my side where a sticky ooze seeped onto my tank top. Joey wasn't going to be happy about this one.

They walked around until they found me on the other side. I held the gun up and pointed it at them with them with my left hand while the right covered up the wound. "Jack!" Connor, I could tell from his voice. "It's us," he pulled his own mask off as well as the other two, albeit Murphy took a little more time.

"I know that," I said coldly and kept the gun up.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Connor grinned. "You can put the gun down."

"I don't think the kid got you," Romeo looked back to the body before turning to Murphy, "he's not holding a gun."

"Jack, give us the gun," Connor soothed.

"Go fuck yourself," I spat at him. I was going a little woozy already. Standing didn't seem too plausible. The bullet was close to edge of my belly, but I could tell it hadn't gone clean through.

"It's all over now, just give us the gun," Connor kneeled down slowly and then pulled the gun out of my shaking hand quickly.

"She's in shock," Romeo declared and I rolled my eyes.

"Oh shit, she's shot," Connor pointed out.

"Well she can join the fucking club," Murphy nearly yelled.

"Go to hell," I gritted my teeth as Connor tried to pull my hand off. "Don't you fucking touch me," I warned him.

"She's crazy," Murphy turned away a little but then looked back.

Connor slid an arm behind me before I could protest again and easily picked me up. "Put me back down," I tried to struggle but lack of blood flow was making me slow and sloppy.

"Let's get back to the boat," Connor said and started out the door.

"Ship," I corrected him. "You didn't have to kill the kid."

"You didn't have to shoot me," Murphy rolled his eyes.

"Gee I'm sorry my first reaction when three guys in ski masks open fire is to shoot back," I retorted. The ship wasn't parked far, which was a good thing. Joey grimaced as he saw me being carried in.

"I thought you said Juan didn't want to kill you?" Joey greeted us as he led back down to the infirmary. I was beginning to spend an alarming amount of time there.

"This wasn't Juan," I gritted my teeth. Connor set me down on the cot. Stretching out made my belly hurt worse and I tried to pull my legs up to me side but Joey stopped me.

Joey looked over once at Murphy's arm and got the picture. "I told you this was a bad idea," he said and pushed the side of my ruined tank top up to inspect. "Bullet's still in," he said and went for a pair of clamps. "You need Ellie."

"I'm fine," I grumbled. He handed me a bottle of rum and I took a long swig of it.

"Doesn't that thin the blood or some shit?" Romeo asked.

"Do I look like I care?" I asked him and put my arm over my face as Joey wiped alcohol across my stomach. I knew what came next. "Okay, new rule," I said as Joey began to fish for the missing bullet. "You have to tell me who you're hitting when you get off the ship."

"That's not fair!" Murphy yelled this time. Yup, tall dark and crazy, just my type.

"Yeah well, bullet in my side and a kid dead means you have to be more selective."

"He was one of them," Murphy argued.

I took a deep breath as Joey hit some kind of nerve. Tears were threatening to spill but I kept control, willing the pain away and focused on my anger. "He couldn't have been more than eighteen and in case you hadn't noticed, he looked like the giant sitting next to me. Daddy probably forced him into it."

"Not an excuse," Murphy said stubbornly.

"I don't fucking care," I yelled at him. Joey pulled out the bullet and went about stitching it up. I didn't say anything again until Joey was done. "Guns," I demanded and sat up with my hands out. They hesitated. "You either hand them over or I swear to god I will throw you off my ship." The twins looked to each other but reluctantly put their guns into my waiting hands. "Good, Joey fix up Murphy and then take them down to the brig. I don't want to see them again tonight."

I started to walk off but was still far too dizzy and slammed into the wall. Murphy grabbed my arm to steady me. "Second though, Joey help me up to my cabin, then fix Murphy."

"Maybe you should rest down here," Murphy nearly whispered to me looking down with those piercing eyes of his.

"I have to go explain to Juan that I'm not responsible for killing his me," I muttered back to him as Joey took my other arm and slid an arm around my waist. Murphy let go and I walked with Joey. I looked back to see him sit down on the cot, his eyes glued to me.


	8. Swallowing a Little Pride

Chapter 8- Swallowing a Little Pride

I hadn't meant to fall asleep. Joey had helped me into bed, handed me a book and more booze, and made me promise to stay there and not move. He said he'd be back later and left me alone while he fixed up Murphy. I almost felt bad for shooting him. Almost. I'd opened the book and carefully propped myself up. My insides still felt stretched and achy. Joey had told me the bullet hadn't hit anything vital other than muscles and fat, thanks Joey. I'd had worse. I tried to call Juan but he didn't sound convinced that the police had beat me to his house. After that my eyes kept drooping despite the dull throbbing from my head and my side. I tried to stay mad at the Saints for the boy but that failed too. Besides, they were right. For all I knew, the kid was the one running Juan's American operations. Hell, he could be poised to take over for Juan. I tried not to get involved with shit like that. I should have been madder that they'd screwed up my job.

The book slid out of my hands but I was already out. One minute I was thinking of how pissed I was at the Saints and the next I was sitting on the edge of the fountain I'd been dreaming about since the Saints arrived on my ship. My father was sitting about fifteen feet to my right. "You know, being angry at them won't solve anything," he said.

I rolled my eyes and in the split second I wasn't watching him, he'd moved and sat down next to me, dipping his feet in the water again. "Talking to a hallucination doesn't help either," I reminded him and looked around. Nothing had changed since my last dream, not that I expected it would. The tree branches still hung on their own and the stars still blazed over head yet I still wondered if I was really outdoors. The place had a closed off sort of feel to it.

He shrugged and stayed silent for a while. "I miss having shoes," he pointed to his bare feet.

"You lost yours." I nearly laughed at him. I was explaining why I hadn't buried my father with his shoes on to his form in a dream. This would probably seem odd to anyone who wasn't crazy like me already. "You ought to be grateful I found you a suit to wear." I pointed to the black suit and silver tie. It didn't look right on him, my mom's new husband donated it. The sleeves were too short.

"I would have been happy in jeans and a teeshirt," he said and then added, "and my sneakers."

"You shouldn't have steered into the storm," I countered. His sneakers had been swept off him in the storm that damn near sunk his boat. It had settled for dropping one of the masts on him instead. "Why am I here?"

"You know why," he gave me a contented smile.

"Right, help the Saints," I muttered. "I didn't tell Joey to lock them in the brig if that's what this is about." He was still looking at me. "They shot me!" I pointed to my bloodstained tanktop.

"Yeah," he turned away to look at the fountain. "You shouldn't be working for Juan anyways. The Saints helped you with that."

"He pays good," I defended my choices. "And now he really is going to shoot me." Or worse depending on if he believed my story about the police already being at his house. "How am I supposed to feed my crew let alone pay their wages?"

"You'll find something else," he gave me another grin and I was thankful he hadn't mentioned me shooting Murphy. "Besides, you did shoot one of them. You didn't have to be so hard on them." Damn it.

"Again, they shot me, gut reaction," I reminded.

"Lots of people shoot you. Why are they different?"

"Calling from god for one thing. If they're supposed to rid the world of evil, won't I be on that list?" I said stubbornly.

"Maybe you should be in a different line of work."

"Easy for the dead man to say," I scoffed. He didn't have to find a job with a resume that included a degree in literature and listed my former job, and only job by the way, as pirate. My references list would be colorful to say the least.

"Why don't you try using that book for a while," he suggested. Suddenly he was standing again. "You know, many have tried locating this fountain."

"What's so special about it?" I asked. Granted the trees had no trunks and the stars might very well be painted on, but still. It seemed pretty ordinary. I'd seen similar rocks in Hawaii near the volcanoes and waterfalls like these were a dime a dozen in some regions of the world.

"Just use your book," he laughed and pulled me to my feet. At least my side didn't hurt here. "And be nice to them," He warned and tipped my chin up to where I was looking at him. "This is the path you are supposed to be on. All you need to do is follow."

"I don't follow well," I frowned at him.

"You don't have a choice," he nearly whispered and kissed the top of my head.

I sat straight up in bed again. My side screamed as I did and I could feel every stitch Joey had put in. I was panting in fresh air. My skin was slick from sweat yet I was freezing. Joey had thrown a blanket over me but my teeth were still chattering. I put a hand to my forehead and felt it burn through. Sure, I wasn't bleeding anymore, but now I had a fever and likely infection. I'd like to go one week without some sort of catastrophe. I slowly stood up, leaning over the bed to let my side get used to the idea of moving. I was still wearing the tanktop and cut offs but I had no desire to raise my arm above my head to change into something less massacred so I wrapped a blanket around myself. It was dark outside and the moon was dark. Shivers rippled through me and I slid down the stairs as quickly as I could. Most of the crew was asleep in their newly installed bunks. Even Joey's light was out.

The walk through the galley and to the infirmary had never been so long. I leaned against the wall and eased myself along. I'd seen giant tortoises move quicker than me. I reached the door to the infirmary and flipped on the bare light bulb and nearly collapsed into the room. I sat down on the cot and pulled the storage box that Ellie used to maintain with perfection. Unfortunately she was too organized and color coded everything. I had two vials, one syringe and no idea which medicine I needed. "Red was for hotflashes and blue for the chills," I said to myself and picked up the blue vials. "On second thought, red for fever and blue for hypothermia?" I looked at the two before deciding, what the hell? It couldn't hurt me much worse and went for the red one. I stabbed the needled into my thigh and sat back in the cot wrapping the blanket around myself even more.

My dream was right, I thought after a few minutes. I hated to admit it. I wasn't supposed to interfere with their business. I'd set too many rules with them in hopes they would leave and then yelled at them for it. I sighed to myself and let the medicine filter through my blood. After what I estimated was a half hour, I started to feel better, less jittery and cold. That little vial couldn't fix that I'd yelled at the Saints for doing their job. I eased myself off the cot and stood, still shaky from blood loss and general soreness.

After another twenty minutes, I made it down the next flight of stairs. I'd picked up a bottle of whiskey as a peace offering. The lights were still on and the door to the brig wide open spilling a yellow-ish light out into the little storage area and the door to the engine room. I took a deep breath and slid along the wall wondering how long until I passed out again. I stopped when I heard voices.

"How are we supposed to work if we have her breathing down our necks?" Murphy asked. Agitation was clear in his voice.

"I know," Connor, softer, agreed. They were quiet for a bit before Connor said, "but she is cute though."

"If ya like psychos," Murphy pointed out. That hurt a little. True, but still stung. "Then again, you like the psycho ones."

"Better in the sack," Connor laughed and I rolled my eyes. "I bet she'd look good naked."

"One track mind you got there brother," Murphy told him and I was kind of glad he was defending my honor, well sort of defending my honor.

"Like you haven't thought about it. I caught you staring today," Connor laughed again, teasing his twin.

"Well, maybe, but she's still crazy," Murphy agreed.

"It's been a while since you've gone for a woman," Connor said. And now I was kind of wishing I'd stayed up in my room and minded my own business, but oh no. My dead father not so subtly said to apologize to them.

I waited another ten minutes and blocked out any and all discussions of my anatomy before I shuffled along and stood in the doorway. "Brought you something," I said. Connor was laying on his cot inside the open cell while Murphy leaned against the bars with his back to the door. They both stood in a flash, Murphy wielding a big hunting knife in my direction. "Calm down big fella, just me." I held the bottle up on my right side but kept my left down holding onto my blanket to cover my bloody clothes and to keep another wave of mind numbing pain at bay. "Were did you get that knife?"

"You said no guns," he muttered and returned the knife to its sheath.

I took a deep breath and tried not to start yelling about the knife. "Mind if I come in?"

"Your ship," Murphy shrugged and sat down in on his cot to face me. They were both wearing their wife beaters with jeans again. I glanced at the crosses on their forearms and the words on their hands. Truth and justice, didn't look so hot for me.

"Here," I held the whiskey out for Connor to take and then leaned against the frame of the door. "I owe you an apology." They both looked at me for a second before Murphy grinned and took a cigarette out of a pack next to him and lit one. "I was pissed and was hasty in making my decision."

"So," Connor opened the bottle and took a swig before leaning over and handing it to his twin. "Do we have to tell you where we're going?"

I grimace and watched Connor sit down. "No, I don't really want to know where you're going. I'll tell you an approximate area to where I'll be conducting my business in each port and you'll tell me if I'm in any immediate danger," I told them and then added, "at least from you."

They looked at each other for a moment before Murphy took a drag of the cigarette and said, "sounds about fair."

"Why don't you have a seat and share this bottle with us," Connor suggested.

"Can't," I pulled open the blanket and motioned to the blood soaked tank top. "Sitting is a process," I told them with the best grin I could muster up and not look sarcastic. "Which is part two of my apology. Sorry for shooting you Murphy." I looked at his bandaged arm.

"Flesh wound," he gave me a grin back.

He didn't stop looking at me, which given the conversation I'd overheard, was making me slightly uncomfortable. "Well, I'll be on my way."

"You know," Connor stopped me. "You could tell us your contacts, then we'd make sure you weren't in our line of fire."

"I'm not that stupid," I laughed and pushed off the doorframe determined to walk away with some dignity. A fresh pang shot up my side and into my brain as I turned to leave and I swear I started moving even slower.

After a few minutes Murphy called out, "Make it far yet Jack?"

"About five steps," I admitted. He was by my side shaking his head before I knew it.

"Here, let me help," He slid an arm around me under my arms but that didn't help my issue with pain any and I nearly cried out.

"I'm fine," I bit my lip.

"You're not," He pulled the arm away and leaned down a bit. "I'm going to pick you up so don't beat the shit out of me."

"I can make it," I argued. "Besides, your arm."

"Jack you're about five feet tall, I'll manage," He grumbled at me and pushed his arm against my knees. He easily hoisted me up, putting most of my weight on his good arm.

I didn't say anything until he carefully set me back down in my bed. "Thank you," I said stubbornly.

He looked over me, eyes resting on the blood stain. "Sorry about that," he wouldn't look up at me. Instead he pulled my comforter over me, up to my chin. "Sleep well Jack," and he was off leaving me to wonder if that kindness was just because he'd shot me or because of something Connor had said to him. I decided to take my chances with my dead dad's cryptic messages instead of deciphering the Irish killer in my brig, and gave in to sleep once again.


	9. A Slight Snag

Chapter 9- A Slight Snag or Damn Book

I didn't sleep well. My dreams were filled with every bad thing I'd ever done, even the candy bar I'd stolen when I was four. All the people I'd endangered, or worse floated in and out. The thing that kept appearing every time was the Saints and how easily it had been for them to kill. Each time, I tried to run away from their guns and ruthlessness until the last one. I was back in Juan's dining room, terrified and waiting for them to round the table and shoot me again. In real life, I'd figured after watching them kill everyone else, I could at least take one out with me since death had never been a fear with me, just a mere surprise as to how it would finally happen. In my dream, I was scared, honest to god afraid. My trusty revolved pointed at them shaking so hard I wasn't sure I could pull the trigger. I hadn't been so afraid of something in years. I'd almost forgotten that emotion.

With my eyes squeezed shut, I waited for the barrage to start. My heart hammered in my chest and I tried to feel anger for them, resist the urge to be afraid of them. "Back so soon Jack?" My eyes popped open and I was back at the water fountain sitting on a rock to one side. My knees were pulled close to my chest and my revolver pointed at the empty air in front of me. My dad stood next to me staring at the spot I was pointing at like he could see what I had been aiming for.

"I don't want to be here," I groaned and stood up. The revolver fell to my side.

"Fear what they stand for Jack, not the men themselves. Let yourself follow," he said quite cryptically. He'd never been this mystical in the fourteen years I'd known him. Most just be a zombie/ghost thing.

"Is it true that if you die in a dream, you die in real life?" I asked.

"Old wives tale," he smiled again.

"Oh good," I pointed my gun down and shot myself in the foot. Hurt like hell, but it did the trick. I bolted upright in my bed. I let out a gasp as my side exploded in pain. At least this time I hadn't woken up drenched in sweat. First things first, I flung the blanket off to check my foot. Five toes, all working well as I wiggled them about. I laid back in bed. My side still hurt and moving wasn't helping. I closed my eyes and thought about sleeping. Remembering all the dreams I'd already had kept me conscious. I gave up on sleep and looked around the room. It was still night. The light on my desk was flipped on. A glass of water and a pill bottle sat out on the coffee table next to my chair with a note in Joey's chicken scratch saying 'take these.' I slowly sat back up willing the screaming pain away and wondered how long I had been asleep.

Everything felt sore and stiff as I made my way over to the table to swallow down Joey's pills. I had a strong desire for a shower. I was still wearing my tank top and cut offs. The purple of my shirt had mostly been stained with splatters closer to the thick straps. The blood had dried to a hard, maroon crust that wasn't moving as flexible as I'd wished. In fact, it was chaffing my skin in spots with its refusal to flex. It took fifteen minutes to change clothes, but it felt better. I'd even changed the dressing on my side. The stitches didn't look too terribly red. Joey must have used the rest of Ellie's vial of antibiotics and from the looks of the pills, stopped for reinforcements. I wasn't all infected anymore so I had been asleep for a while.

In a pair of fresh cargo shorts and an old Aerosmith teeshirt, I felt better. Maybe not cleaner, but better. I poked my head out of my cabin doors to get a look around. No crew, few running lights. We weren't moving either, I noted. Everything was silent in the dead of night. It reminded me of a short story I'd read about a group of travelers who awoke on their flight to realize they were the only people alive. And now I was a little creeped out. I shuffled back to my bed where the floorboards were loose and picked up my book and the lockets, not an easy thing to do when just thinking about bending made my side hurt all over again. I figured if I wasn't going to sleep, I might as well get some work done. We needed a heading and I was going to trust Juan to let me get by. Jobs were out of the question for a bit. Treasure hunting sounded better than being the hunted.

It took another fifteen minutes or so to get my book, the lockets, and a notebook out onto the deck. The moon was back, just a sliver to one side so I couldn't have slept for more than a week tops. I set the book out in front of me on the wood of the ship's deck and placed the lockets to each side. The silver, my father's, went on the left while the gold, Sir William's, went to the right. I hated that I was listening to my dad now, or at least a blood loss/alcohol induced hallucination of him.

"I want to find Blackbeard's treasure," I said out loud. That was how my book worked. I spoke aloud what I was looking for then opened the book and the page was always what I needed. Sometimes I tried to throw the book off and just open a page just to see what I would find. This time wasn't any different. The page simply had Blackbeard as a label at the top and then lines of letters with no spaces filling the rest of the two pages. I popped both lockets open and looked at the diamonds sparkling within. They only shone in the moonlight, showing a grid in the palm-sized lockets which, when compared to the books, spelled out words from the gibberish. Ta-da. Okay, not quite magic.

I started to read across but I'd only gotten as far as "The legend of the" before a gust of wind hit the ship out of nowhere. The pages fluttered out of my hands and my hair wrapped around my face. "Hey!" I yelled out and looked at the page the book had stopped on. "Fountain of youth," I murmured to myself. I tried to turn back but the pages seemed to be stuck together. "Ha ha, very funny dad, but I want to feed my crew, not live forever."

"Who are ya talkin' to?" I jumped awkwardly and my side started hurting again, sharp pains shooting through my abdomen. My hand went to my side automatically but then remembered the book. I slammed the pages shut as Murphy rounded my and leaned against the mast, cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Myself apparently," I pulled both lockets closer to me concerned that he'd managed to sneak up on me. No one ever took me by surprise. At least not on my ship.

"What's that?" He pointed to the book.

"Nothing," I lied. Besides, how could I explain it to him without sounding completely mad? "How long was I asleep?"

"Four days," Murphy admitted and took a drag from the cigarette. "Joey was going to take you to a hospital."

"Great." I knew Joey was concerned, but I could not go to a hospital. They tended to ask a lot of questions when you came in with a gunshot wound. Especially a half-healed gunshot wound. It was bad enough he'd already told someone enough to get more antibiotics. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere near Nassau?" Question, not answer.

I looked up at the stars and then out at the water and said, "sounds about right." I got a good look at him in the moonlight. The stubble was mostly gone except for a spotty goatee. He wore a plain black tee-shirt and dark jeans and looked a hell of a lot better than all of my crew. "Do you ever sleep?" I asked him.

"Connor snores," he joked and dropped the cigarette and stamped it out with the edge of his worn black boot. He stood back again and looked at me, sitting cross-legged and barefoot with wild hair. "Couldn't sleep," he admitted.

"Sea sickness?" I asked him.

"Dreams," he said shortly. "How's your side?"

"Peachy," I gave him a smile. Also a lie, it hurt like a bitch but heaven forbid I tell anyone that. "How's your arm?"

"Same," he said shortly. "Any idea where you're going next?"

"Not really," I looked down at my book wondering how long it could be stubborn. I'd have to try again tomorrow. "Probably head towards Cuba." That was probably the best bet as to where I was headed. For now I was happy enough to just float for a bit, let Juan cool.

"Will that Juan guy be waiting for ya there?" Almost like he could read my mind or something.

"No, he doesn't have that far a reach," at least I hoped not. Besides, I didn't think he'd be mad about the men who had died but rather that the job hadn't been done. His things had still been turned over to the FBI. "

"How long have you been at sea?"

"Quite curious tonight aren't you?" I laughed but he didn't crack a smile. "My mom says I've been at sea my whole life. My dad was a fisherman and treasure hunter so I spent every summer out with him. He died when I was fourteen, mom kicked me out at fifteen. Joey took me in and I found the ship then. So, fourteen years."

"Romeo says his uncle knows of you, told him to stay away," Murphy grinned finally. "Says your ship scared the hell out of him a few years back."

"She is quite menacing looking," I laughed and looking up at the sails. "My dad used to tell me tales about your dad."

"Tales?" He repeated.

"Stories to make me fly right I supposed. It just made me avoid Boston," I smiled at him.

"The crew says you're a pirate," Murphy looked into my eyes like he was trying to read more into my brain than what I was telling him.

"I steal from those who steal from others," I explained without mentioning that that often involved death and cheating. "Should I be worried about these dreams of yours?"

He was quite for a moment before he pushed off the mast. "You should be resting," he said and held a hand out for me. "Let me help you back to bed." He hadn't answered my question, troubling.

I didn't sleep after Murphy left me in my cabin. I put the book and lockets back in their hiding spot and paced until my side hurt too much to take. Then I sat at my desk and routed out all the places I thought Blackbeard might have gone. By sunrise I had a half-assed notion of where we were going. I'd told the crew we were headed to the Virgin Islands and then set a course by noon. The crew had taken a lunch break down below in the open space below my cabin before you got the galley and infirmary. Joey had decided to take a nap while we were coasting along. I slipped down the stairs hoping to get a moment with him along before the crew went back to work.

"Do you really think they shot her?" I stopped on the stairs hearing one of the crewmen ask.

Forks scraped along plates but that slowed before Marko said, "Juan wasn't there so who else would shoot her?"

"Maybe whoever she was meeting?" Someone suggested.

"They carried her back," Marko told them. "And she isn't making them work today. She's afraid of them because they already shot her once."

"Okay," I nearly yelled and made it down the final few steps. At least moving around was much easier now that the infection had passed. "They weren't there to kill me, I just happened to be in their way and I'm not afraid of them. There's three of them and seventeen of us."

"Numbers didn't help the mafia," another called out.

"We are not the mafia," I reminded but got interrupted.

"Why are they even here?"

"We should throw them off!"

"No one is throwing any one off!" I yelled and silenced everyone. "They're here because I said so and anyone who has a problem with that can get the hell off my ship at the next port!" I was angry and it made my side hurt like there was too much blood flowing around. I glared at the crew and stormed over to Joey's cabin.

He was asleep so I slammed the door and yelled at him, "Joey, get up!"

"Go away Jack, I'm napping," he groaned and tried to pull the pillow over his head.

"Don't tempt me to hold that pillow down," I warned him. He threw the pillow off his face and looked at me with one eye open. "Stop telling the crew that the Saints shot me!"

"They did," Joey said simply. "Kind of hard to hide that."

"Well now they think I'm afraid of the Saints," I tried not to yell anymore, mainly because the crew was probably standing outside listening in. "Stop telling them things."

Joey shrugged his shoulders. "What's your plan?"

"About you running your mouth about the Saints shooting me? I was thinking of tying you to a mast for one whole day with no sunscreen."

"About Juan and jobs," he rolled his eyes with that one.

"Juan will cool off eventually. Until then I was thinking of looking for Blackbeard's treasure. He robbed the Spanish and English blind, it has to be around here somewhere."

"Good," Joey sat up a bit. "Where are we going then?"

"Well," I started. "The book is being less than cooperative. Hopefully tonight I'll get more," or the page could say 'give up. He didn't have anything.'

"Great, wake me up when you figure out a better plan than floating around near the Virgin Islands."

I grumbled a few choice obscenities at him before heading back up to my cabin. The crew scattered as I walked past them but no one said anything about wanting to be let off at the next port. The Saints even came out of hiding and helped the crew out for the rest of the afternoon.

That night, I was back out on deck thankful for the clear night sky and a bright crescent-shaped moon. The book was sat out in front of me with the lockets in their usual position. "I want to find Blackbeard's treasure," I said and flipped the book open. It stopped on the right page and I breathed a sigh of relief. I opened the lockets and was just about to start reading when another gust of wind flipped the pages. "Damn it!" I tried to stop the pages but it didn't work. They stopped on their own but right back at the Fountain of Youth page.

"Oh no," I said to the book and flipped back to Blackbeard's page. I held the pages down this time and strained my eyes to look at the lockets. According to them the book said 'hiewhsfsqaer,' about Blackbeard. Curious. I pulled my hands up and let the pages fly in the breeze. Fountain of Youth again. But looking at the lockets and then back to the book, I could clearly make out 'Many have searched…' before I quit in frustration. "You have got to be kidding me."

"What are you doing?" I jumped again and realized Connor was behind me.

"Jesus, how do you two keep doing that?" I shut the book and spun around to face him, hiding the book behind me.

"Doing what?" He asked innocently enough. Maybe no one had told him that I usually had eyes in the back of my head when on my ship. "You know, reading at night isn't good for your eyes," he pointed to the corner of the book poked out from behind me.

"Do I seem concerned?"

"Well," he grinned but trailed off. "We heard you're headed for the Virgin Islands now. Looking for some sort of buried treasure."

"Possibly," if I could get a damn clue from my book. "I'm doing a little research."

"What a coincidence. We did some research too," he grinned again and reminded me of the Cheshire Cat. I hated that cat. "Seems you do quite a bit of treasure hunting. Romeo's uncle said you'd found sixteen sunken ships in the past two years."

"So?"

"That's what I said until I found out the average treasure seeker only finds one wreck in their whole lifetime," he leaned down in front of me so that we were face to face. "How do you find your treasures?"

"How do you talk to God?" I countered.

He chuckled under his breath a little. "I guess you got me there."

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"I could ask the same of you," he pointed out before conceding, "I can't sleep," he was quite for a moment before continuing on, like he was trying to decide if telling me was a good idea. "We keep dreaming strange things about you and this ship. It got blown up and sunk, put back together by a woman who wasn't quite right. I've seen sinkholes the size of cities and jungles in the middle of the desert and dinosaurs on a strange island. You, blowing up ship after ship with men on board."

"Weird," I muttered but knew of all of those things because I'd been there.

"I know," Connor laughed again and was lighter in tone. "Odd because Murphy and I haven't had the same dream since last month when the jail sent that psychologist with the big," I raised an eyebrow and he stopped short. "Point being, I thought I'd ask you about it."

"The sea plays tricks with the mind," I offered.

"I hope for your sake that's it because I've seen some pretty bad things," he looked me in the eye and I shrunk back a little and remembered back to the cold looks in the eyes of the twins as they slaughtered all of Juan's men.


	10. A Heading of Sort

Chapter 10- A Heading of Sorts

The book nearly cooperated with me. I had to weigh the pages down with rocks and then shake the lockets until they read the right letters. At least the next night I didn't have any visitors. I half expected Romeo to come out and bug me but he didn't seem like the type that could sneak up on me. The part about the book that annoyed me more than its insistence that I needed to find the Fountain of Youth, was that it told me to start looking for Blackbeard's treasure in Mexico. I steered the ship towards Cancun hoping Juan wouldn't notice we were there.

Two days later, we were sitting out in the water a couple of miles out from land. I took Marko and a few others into the navigation room and gave them a wad of cash. "Food, no girls," I warned them. "And bring back some Tequila." I had a hankering for it ever since I woke up. My side hurt less and less every day and now I could even bend about and climb stairs without needing a cry break.

"Yes captain," Marko said obediently but he had that mischievous look on his face that said somewhere there was going to be a very happy stripper.

"No girls," I wagged a finger at him. "I expect you to be back on board by six tonight."

"Do you want me to do some work?" Marko asked. His English wasn't so great at times. Funny as hell when he was confusing someone other than me. "Juan," he hinted.

"If you can dig up some information that would be great. I just need to know where he is right now," I patted his shoulder. "No girls," I added as he walked out.

I turned to Joey who handed me a sonar image of the water below. Sure enough, there was a mass of wood piled up about twenty feet long in the shape of a small boat. "It can't be one of his," Joey said looking over my shoulder. "Maybe a decoy?"

"The book said to come here," I looked at the image once more. "Blackbeard could fool others but not the book. Something has to be down there."

"Wild goose chase," Joey pointed out.

I rolled up the image and went down to the deck where the crew was running around. Some were setting the anchor down while others were preparing one of the small propeller boats for Marko to take ashore. The Saints were leaning against the side of the ship watching the waves hit the sides. All three were smoking cigarettes and had their sunglasses pulled high on their faces looking all the more like the scary killers that they are. I walked over knowing the edge of the boat was right below me. "Marko is going ashore right now to gather some supplies and get the all-clear."

"All clear?" Connor asked me.

"Angry drug dealer looking for me because he thinks I killed his men and turned him over to the FBI," I reminded them. "If no one's looking for us, we'll make port tonight but this might be the only shot you get a Cancun."

The twins looked at each other before Murphy turned back to me. "What are you planning on doing this afternoon if you're not going with them," he hitched a finger back over his shoulder towards Marko.

"Bit of treasure seeking," I grinned. I always went a little geeky when talking about buried treasure and archaeology. "We're parked over what's left of a boat. Hopefully it'll be related to Blackbeard."

"Look at that lads," Connor smiled at the other two men. "She's found herself another buried treasure."

They laughed a little and I figured I deserved to let them take the piss a little. "It's not that simple," I said louder. "Blackbeard supposedly hid treasure all over the Caribbean with false leads and clues that led to nothing. This could just be a sunken dingy."

"How do you find out?" Romeo asked looking around on deck, probably for something that resembled any kind of machinery to aid a treasure hunter.

"Like this," I traded the image for a flashlight and climbed onto the railing.

"Jack!" Joey yelled at me. "Don't you jump into that wreck! We don't know what's down there." He always said that and I never listened.

I dove straight into the clear waters. The boat was resting on a sand bar saving it from slipping further out to sea. The water was shallow enough for me get at it. I flipped the light on and a few fish scattered out in different directions. The boat had been nearly decimated by time and sand but I could see the outline well enough. Pieces of shattered wood littered the area mixed with bits of metal where the single mast had been. I wanted to look at it more, the beauty in the destruction caused by time but I didn't have that much air in my lungs, not with a gunshot wound to the side still healing. I dove deeper flipping my bare feet along until I was face to face with the wreck and no idea what I was supposed to be looking for. I pushed some wood around sending plumes of sand and trapped air up to the surface. My lungs began to burn and I still hadn't found anything. I turned to go back to the surface when the light flashed across something gold. I stopped and pointed the flashlight over and sure enough, there was a chest underneath a hunk of wood. I pushed the wood aside and looked at the chest. It was completely intact and unharmed by the water. The hinges and lock were nearly black, but everything else was in pristine condition. It was what I was looking for.

With the last bit of air left in my lungs, I yanked the chest out of the wood and dropped the flashlight in the sand. It had only cost twenty bucks anyways. With the chest in my hands, I pushed off in the mucky sand as best I could and kicked up to the surface. I broke the water panting for air, Joey glaring at me. "Are you happy? You scared me to death."

"I did not," I was still sucking in air. "Toss me a line."

He did throw a rope over the edge to me which I wrapped around my waist carefully so that it fell above the stitches and waited. Joey took the chest from my hands when I got closer to the railing and Murphy grabbed my arms and hauled me back over the edge easily. "Thanks," I told him but it didn't escape me that was staring at the wet and clingy tee-shirt.

"Okay Jack, show me something worth you risking your life over," Joey handed me a hammer and pointed to the chest.

I swung the hammer down onto the lock amazed at how easily it broke open. Inside, there were a few gold coins, British, and a rolled up piece of parchment, yellowing along the edges. I pulled the paper out and opened it. "Oh look, another map," Joey rolled his eyes.

"Shut up," I warned him and looked at the map. Bahamas. "Damn pirates."

"That's it?" Romeo asked me. I just shrugged and then wrung my hair out. "We might as well go to Cancun."

The Saints left with Marko which, let's face it, was about the only entertainment I had left for the afternoon since the wreck turned out to be a bust. "You wouldn't be bored if you hadn't pissed off Juan," Joey pointed out.

"Don't you have something to do?" I asked him.

He gave me a wide smile and said, "annoying you is a full time job made easier when you can't leave the Sunset Ambrosia."

"Fine, I'll find you a job," I gritted my teeth again. "Go clean the infirmary, there's still blood everywhere."

He looked like he was going to protest but he just walked off muttering, "might as well. Never know when you're going to need again."

"I heard that!"

"I meant for you to!" He yelled right back.

I pulled a lawn chair out on deck and slathered my pale skin in sun block figuring I might as well take advantage of the nice day. It didn't last long. I'd tired myself out diving down to the wreck, that mixed with the lack of sleep and blood loss from the past week. I dozed off in the warm sun. I didn't dream of the Saints but instead the waterfall again.

"You're becoming a regular visitor here," my dad smiled warmly at me.

"I've been nice to them, I haven't locked them up or taken away their food. I even let them go with Marko for the afternoon," I protested before giving him the chance to tell me I had done the Saints wrong.

"That's not why you're here," he informed me.

"Fountain of Youth, eh?" I pointed to the waterfall.

"That's her," he looked at it proudly. I was thinking it was dumb to call a waterfall a fountain.

"Why do I need it?" I asked him.

"You'll learn," he said. Another cryptic message was met by a roll of the eyes from me. "Don't argue with me Jack. This is important."

We stood in silence for a while. He was staring at the water and ignoring me while I had remembered how big and loud my dad could be when I'd pissed him off. Finally, he said, "You know, Juan is planning on shooting you again."

"That's not anything new," I said softly. "Is that why I need to Fountain?"

He laughed and turned to me again, taking my arms in his hands. "I love you Jack but you're too damn stubborn. The Fountain is part of your path." He kissed my cheek and then I was aware of the sun again.

I stretched in the lawn chair and felt the stitches in my side again, "fuck," I grumbled and scrunched back up waiting for the pain to pass. I slowly opened my eyes to find Murphy watching me, leaning with his back to the railing. "What? Was I slobbering or something?"

"No," he shook his head. "You were muttering."

"Oh good, I have lost my mind then," I stood up as Marko came up the stairs from the crew quarters below.

"Juan's not here," he informed me. "No sign of him or any of his scouts."

"Good," I nodded. "Tell Joey we're making port." He scampered off and I turned to Murphy. "There's a little bar about a half mile east of the harbor if y'all would like to join us later."

"I'll think about it," he smiled at me and something inside me like the way he smiled. I frowned and walked off to my cabin.

I didn't want to think about Murphy while I got ready but somehow I ended up dressed in a tight pair of jeans, no rips or tears, and a navy halter that hadn't seen the light of day in about a year. I was even attempting to brush my hair. All this in an attempt to prove I was actually a woman to a man I hadn't had more than five conversations with, two by himself, and who possibly wanted to kill me.

We left the ship a little before the sun had completely dipped into the night sky. Most of the crew went to the bar I'd invited the Saints to, but a few did head off towards downtown, mainly night clubs and seedier bars. I'd take the little bar sitting on the water any day. The actual bar was inside but the walls were basically doors that were kept open most of the year. A covered porch surrounded most of it where extra tables and two worn pool tables sat. We took up two tables inside and four more right outside were Christmas lights and candles illuminated everything. I'd paid the bartender to keep feeding the jukebox coins and keep the beer pitchers full. Joey had surprised me and pulled a couple of bills from his pockets to keep the tables in chips and salsa until dawn.

I was listening to Joey tell some story about he and my dad getting handcuffed to a dock by an irate woman when I saw them walk in. Connor looked around before he spotted me. He pointed me out to Murphy and then waved. They started to head for the bar but I waved them on. I'd warned Joey to pass the word along to be nice to the Saints so they were almost welcomed to the tables. It didn't take Connor long to make nice. He started telling his own story about some bar owner they knew back in Boston and had the crew rolling in laughter. Murphy, on the other hand, seemed happy enough to sulk on his own. He was standing over one of the pool tables hitting the cue ball aimlessly. I stood taking my beer with me and went over to the table.

"Rack em up," I told him picking up a stick and setting my glass on the rim of the table. The night air off the sea made me shiver a little, but that could have been from the darkness along the beach. I didn't like not knowing what was coming in.

"I don't think so," he said.

"Come on, I'll make it worth your while," I tempted him. He looked at me, half way amused. "How about if you beat me I'll give you the three steaks I've been saving in the freezer and another bottle of my whiskey."

"And if you win?"

"You have to fix those steaks for Joey and me," I grinned.

He looked at me for a second and then decided it was a worthy bet. He quickly lined up the balls and skidded the cue ball over to me. "Ladies first,"

I laughed a little and hit the ball easily. Two solids fell into the pockets. "Kill anyone tonight?" I asked him leaning over the table to line up my shot.

"I could ask the same of you," he said and lit a cigarette.

I sunk in another ball and stood looking at the table instead of him. "I probably don't want to know anyways," I grinned and slid past him to take another shot. This one missed. "Your shot."

He looked at me and inhaled on the cigarette, leaving it pursed between his lips. He bent down and easily sank a ball. "So how does this treasure hunting thing work?"

"Usually, we find a wreck, scavenge what we can for usable parts and valuables. I sell some and give the rest to museums." That was an easy enough explanation. No need to get into the book.

"Joey says you're chasing ghosts again," he leaned over and took another shot, another ball went in.

"I'm always chasing something," I mumbled watching him line up another shot. His jeans fit wonderfully. I shook my head forced myself to take a long gulp of my beer. I wasn't supposed to think those things about him, or any man for that matter. Romance usually lead to bad, bad things with me.

I had stood there thinking dirty thoughts too long. He was staring at me again like I'd gone crazy. "Your shot," he pointed to my stick. "I missed."

"Right," so much for being cool and sophisticated. "Do you miss Ireland?"

He was staring again, like he was trying to figure out why I was making small talk. "A little," he admitted and took another drag of the cigarette before stamping it out. "It was quiet there but sometimes too quiet. You ever been there?"

"My dad tried to get me to go when he was still alive," I looked at the table again ignoring how he was watching me. And then I missed my shot. "Never quite made it there though. Land doesn't agree with me so much."

"I've noticed," he laughed.

I was about to say something witty, or at least I was going to think of something witty to say, when Joey pulled at my arm. "We need to talk," I looked at the table and then back to him. "Now," he insisted.

"No cheating," I pointed at Murphy with a grin and set my pool stick down.

"We got a problem," Joey started. That was a fine way to start a conversation. "They shot Pablo."

"Who's Pablo?" I asked feeling a migraine coming on.

"Juan's fifth cousin or something, runs a nightclub here. Sells girls," he hinted.

"I thought Marko said no connections."

"Marko's an idiot," Joey said but then his face softened. He knew I liked Marko, reliable, dependent but dumb Marko. "Juan doesn't deal with him much but," he trailed off and ran his hand through his graying hair. "Two identical murder scenes, execution style with pennies over their eyes and our ship sitting in the port. Juan's bound to show up sooner or later."

And I was sober again. "Get the guys, tell them to find the ones that went to town, we're leaving tonight."

"And what about the Saints? It's their fault Juan might know where we are." He was suggesting I leave them behind.

"Look, a very dangerous and smart man has dirt on Ellie if I don't take the Saints with us. They're staying on board." I turned to head back to the bar but Joey caught my arm.

"Jack, I'm all for you finding a man, but not that one," He motioned to the bar.

My mouth dropped a little. "I have no interest in any of them other than making sure they aren't planning on killing me," I said evenly if not a little cold. "Go find the crew and get them on the ship."

He listened to me for a change and I was alone, outside and looking up at the sky wondering why my life was always complicated. I took a deep breath and started to head back inside but someone caught my eye. Down the little gravel path leading to the beach, a man in a bad Hawaiian shirt and tan pants stood, staring at me. Our eyes met and I knew it was Sir William. Cars pulled up on the other side of the bar, screeching to a halt in the dirt and my head swung over there for a brief second. By the time I looked back to the path, he was gone. Ghosts again I suppose. My mind really had been fried by too much booze and sun. Bigger concern than that was the group of men getting out of the four cars, Juan leading the way in his designer suit and slicked back hair and rifle to his side.

"Shit," I murmured and ran into the bar as fast as I could, sliding past Joey. "Juan's outside, pass the word, no guns," I told him and found the Saints sitting at a table sharing a bottle of whiskey with a few of the crew members. "You three, with me. Now!" I yelled at them and pulled at Connor's arm.

"Sit, Jack, have a drink with us," he laughed.

"Now!" I grumbled again and he must have seen something in my face that made him take me seriously because they stood and followed me. I pushed the three of them into the Ladies room before realizing the room was a bit smaller than I'd expected. There was a single light above and a toilet and sink, all the size of about a closet. They apparently didn't get many women here.

"This is a little kinky, don't you think?" Connor teased.

"Shut up," I grumbled at him. "And get your hand of my ass."

"Not mine," Connor held both of his hands up in the air nearly whacking Romeo in the face.

I looked back to see Murphy give me a sheepish grin. "Right, Juan's here." I cracked the door open a little to see the bar being invaded.

"The drug deal who shot you?" Murphy asked.

"You shot me," I reminded him. "You killed his fifth cousin tonight." They were all quiet for a second.

"Okay, we'll handle this," Connor tried to get past me but I slid over as best I could, blocking his way out.

"Jack, I know you're here somewhere," Juan called out. "Come out and I promise not to kill your crew."

"Our coats are by the door," Connor said. "I'm nearly out of rounds."

"I got another clip," Romeo offered.

"Stay here," I warned them and before they could argue, I'd opened the door and slinked out. "Sorry, had to use the Ladies room," I told him with a grin.

Juan didn't seem too pleased with me because instead of ordering his goons to do his dirty work, he grabbed the back of my neck and slammed my head down onto the bar and held it there against the wood. "I should kill you right here in front of all your crew," he said leaning down into my hair. His voice was gruff and mean. "But we have business to discuss." His grip on my neck eased a little and I was pulled upright again. Yup, wasn't helping the migraine out any.

"Don't anyone try and follow us," Juan warned pointing a gun at my back. He nudged my along until I was following another of his thugs out the back door. Murphy and Connor peeked out as I went, anger on both their faces, possibly because I was bleeding down the side of my face or because they were so close to a man who was so evil their do-gooder instincts kicked in. Either way, I was glad they didn't make a move. Juan could have easily killed me before they got to their coats. Problem was, I had been kidnapped. Again.


	11. Rescuing the Captain

Chapter 11 –Rescuing the Captain

Juan roughly shoved me into the largest of the cars parked out front. Four door black sedan, no plates. We were in Mexico though, he didn't need license plates. He got in behind and I tried to inch away from him but the door on the other side opened and another man got in pushing me back. I was squeezed in between the second largest Mexican I'd ever seen and Juan. Neither one seemed so happy to be here. "So," I said and smiled at the two of them. Blood from my head had now slipped off the side of my face and left splatters on my halter top, another ruined shirt. "You're back in Mexico."

"Shut up Jack," Juan rolled his eyes. "Do you know what I do to people who screw me?"

"I could ask your wife," I said. There went my mouth getting about four paces ahead of my brain again.

He didn't say anything but his hand found the back of my head again and slammed it into the glass partition separating the driver from the back seat. He pulled me back and I sat, dazed, and waited for the exploding pain behind my eyes to stop. "I've been nice to you in the past."

"Yeah real nice," I spat at him. "Shooting me and then giving me a concussion screams kindness."

He grabbed at my neck but I flung his arm off, determined not to be surprised by it this time. "You're never on time with deliveries then you expect to be paid full price. You stole a priceless sword," he said. I bit back the urge to tell him there was definitely a price to that sword. I'd lost it once, found it hidden in a storage chest, and fenced it only to find it wasn't worth a fraction of what he thought it was. "And now you kill my men and you didn't even do the job I paid you for."

"You didn't pay me," I pointed out. "And anyways, I tried to tell you when I called that I had been waiting for nightfall before I went to the house," lie, but he didn't need to know that. "But when I got there, the FBI had the place surrounded so I got the hell out of there because really, FBI agents nosing about my business is the last thing I need." My dad always told me I had a tell when I lie. I rambled, on and on until I had dug myself a hole.

"You know, I almost believe you," Juan looked at me and the car came to a stop. "Except there's one tiny thing you didn't factor into your lie."

"What's that?" I asked him.

"My maid, we think she was working for the FBI." I already didn't like where this was going. "I had a security system put in place. The house was covered in cameras and the feed sent right to my laptop." Yup, didn't like where this was going.

I looked down at the back of the front seats where the glass met the fabric. "You killed my men," he concluded.

"I didn't," I said softly.

"You know who did. They carried you out," Juan stretched back as I leaned forward. There had to be an escape somewhere but this time, I wasn't sure where. I didn't have anything he wanted other than the book he knew he couldn't use. "I know who they are."

"What are you planning on doing?" I asked him, sick of the mind games. I didn't want him to have any power over me, nothing to dangle over my head. I wanted him to just tell me if he was going to kill me tonight.

"The FBI is looking pretty hard for them so I figure they have to be around here somewhere. I could use them to buy my freedom."

"I won't tell you where they are," I said and kept looking at my knees.

"I know that Jack," he laughed. "I just wanted you to know how easily it was to find you. Ship with gray sails, Pablo dead."

I had no sarcastic comment or snappy comeback. There was nothing. He opened his door and the bodyguard pushed me out. "Bring her here," Juan yelled. We were the only car around. A field of dry grass was before me and the city lights of Cancun glittered below, beyond that I could see the water. My ship and crew were out there somewhere, probably trying to come up with a plan that wouldn't be quick enough to save me. The bodyguard grabbed my hair in his meaty hand and pulled me along until we were standing out in the middle of the field near a jagged, twisted tree. My eyes darted around as the bodyguard handed Juan a long, semi-automatic gun.

Juan must have seen that I was thinking I could take the two of them because he fired off one quick shot right into my right calf. I didn't feel it at first, like my brain was tired of registering pain, but then it hit me and I fell to the ground onto my knees. "Don't want you going anywhere," Juan smiled at me.

"Go fuck yourself," I ground my teeth together feeling the blood flow from my leg.

"Pity those are going to be your last words," his smile widened.

I closed my eyes and tried to think about pleasant things, my house and the big oak tree my dad was buried under in the back, laughing and watching bad movies with Ellie, floating on my back in the middle of the Pacific, the way Murphy's jeans clung to all the right places. A gunshot rang out and I wondered if I didn't feel it because you didn't feel pain after death. Then again, my leg still hurt like hell and my side was starting to ache again. Another shot followed by several more in quick succession made me open my eyes. Juan fell forward into the grass, eyes open, gaping hole in his chest. The bodyguard fell over about the same time. I crawled over to Juan, tears falling down my face from the pain, and pried his gun out of his hands. I held it out and pointed wildly into the night air. A few more shots pierced my ears near the car and I knew it was the driver. I pointed that way with the muzzle of the gun, wondering what kind of drug war I'd just gotten myself into.

"Was that all of them?"A voice yelled out, Irish voice, laughing voice. Connor.

"Just the three, you bastards!" I yelled and sat backwards, holding my injured leg above the dirt. I set the gun down as Murphy came strolling over.

He kneeled down beside me seeing my face. "Don't cry," he tried to sooth. "They deserved it."

"Not that, moron, he shot me in the fucking leg," I pointed to the blood soaked stain growing on my pant leg. Now I'd need a new pair of jeans too.

Murphy looked down then took my leg in his hands and pushed the pants up to my knees. "Straight through," he commented and gingerly put it back down. He pulled his jacket off and tore a hunk of fabric off the sleeve of his shirt and then wrapped it around my leg to stem the bleeding. "We should get you back to the ship."

"No," I rubbed at my eyes. "I have stuff to do." I pushed myself off the ground and stood up. "Why the hell did you shoot him anyways?" I pointed down to Juan.

"He was going to kill you," Connor said coming up on us.

"So? Lots of people try and kill me!" I yelled at them. "Now people are definitely going to be looking for you," I pointed at the three of them. "And," I continued on. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself!" I tried to take a step with the injured leg but nearly fell over. Pressure was not my friend. The blood was still running down the sides staining my flipflops in the process.

"Way to prove it," Murphy rolled his eyes and picked me up in one swift move.

"Put me down," I emphasized every word.

He ignored me. In fact, they all ignored me. We walked over to the car and Connor pushed the dead driver out and onto the gravel road. He got in the driver's seat with Romeo in the passenger's. Murphy set me down in the backseat and slid in next to me. He pushed the partition open so we could talk to Connor. Well, I could talk to Connor. "We're not going back to the ship."

"You're bleeding again," he pointed out.

I shook my head at him, "not really that uncommon with me. More importantly, Juan has a tape of you three killing all his guys back in Miami on his laptop."

"So?" Twins, in unison, creepy. Sort of like _Children of the Corn_.

"And then you carrying me out instead of shooting me."

"Oh," unison again.

"There's a high-rise back downtown, take me there," I instructed and pointed towards the city. Connor looked back to Murphy but then turned around and started the car.

They parked behind the building. I took the car keys and didn't say anything when they got out. I tried to walk again but ended up hopping a few paces before Murphy picked me up again. "Service elevator," I pointed. Sure enough, one of the keys matched the private elevator and the hole for the penthouse. The elevator stopped at the top and opened into a marble covered lobby. One single door lay ahead.

"Through there," I pointed and tapped Murphy's arm until he put me back down. They just stood and stared. "Well, go. Kill them," they still didn't move. "This is the closest I'm going to come to helping you murder my contacts so I'd suggest you go."

They didn't need any more of an invitation. They pulled the ski masks out of their back pockets and slipped them on over their heads. They broke the door in with little effort. I hobbled over to the door and leaned against the cold walls and looked at my dirty hands. I didn't bother trying to count the shots, I just waited for them to stop.

When the shooting did ease, I went in. Blood splattered the walls of the living room and into the kitchen. The apartment wasn't huge. Living room, open kitchen and dining, hallway leading to the bedrooms. Connor was crossing the arms of the men lying around the couches and placing pennies over their closed eyes. "Effective," I said.

Murphy and Romeo came out of the hall and looked at me. "Apartment's empty," Murphy said and went to go pick me up again but I waved him off.

"Juan said it's all on his laptop," I looked around hoping to spot the computer or at least a computer bag. Juan was smart but he wasn't smart enough to make back-up copies. He truly thought he was going to kill me tonight so there was no need to lie about that being the only one.

We all started to search. Murphy and I headed back down the hallway peeking in the guest bedroom and an office. No such luck. I pushed open the master bedroom door. Juan had chosen a king sized four poster bed made of cherry wood that took up a chunk of the room. Murphy went to the desk while I pulled all the drawers off of the nightstand finding nothing. I bent down on the carpet and pulled the side of the bed sheets up. I knew I was trailing blood all over the cream carpet but hey, Juan wouldn't care now. Instead of the computer, I was met by a pair of brown eyes. "Shit!" I yelled and dropped the cloth scooting back.

"What?" Murphy asked.

"Eyes!" I pointed to the bed. He pushed up the side and reached a hand under. He came back pulling on a woman.

"Please, don't kill me!" She wailed in broken English, tears streaming down her face. Juan's wife, Bianca. I remembered from all the pictures.

"We're not going to kill you," I said softly and stood as best I could. "Where's Juan's computer?"

She stared at me and I wondered how much English she actually knew. She blinked a few times and the tears subsided. "There," she pointed to the tv stand in the corner. Murphy went over and opened the heavy doors and came back with a laptop in his hands.

"Thank god," I sighed and we both turned to her again. "Your husband is dead."

"I figured," she said and sniffled a few times.

"I'm sorry,"

"Don't be," she nearly whispered and took my hands. "Thank you." She hugged me, too tightly at that. My body was getting sick of pain and I was growing weaker.

"We need to go," I looked back to Murphy and then to her again. "I have a ship in the harbor if you would like a ride."

She waved a hand. "No, not me. I've had enough of you people." I didn't like the way she lumped me in with her husband.

Murphy helped me along back through the living room but then handed the computer off to Romeo and scooped me up into his arms. I fell asleep until we got back to the ship when Murphy shook me awake. He helped me back onto the ship where Joey was waiting. "Don't start with me," I warned him.

"What should we do with this?" Romeo asked holding up the laptop.

"This," I pulled it from his hands and tossed it over the side. It made a satisfying plop before I tried to walk away. Then I was back off my feet again and Murphy didn't set me down until I was sitting on the cot in the infirmary. He tore my pant leg off at the knee and looked at my leg again.

"Bleeding's mostly stopped," he commented and went to the supply box. He pulled out the string and needle again. "Do you mind?"

"Not really," I said and leaned my back against the wall. He pulled up a chair and gently picked up my leg. His hands were warm and rough on my skin. They waivered there for a moment before he started stitching. "I'm sorry I yelled at you before." He didn't say anything. "I should have been thanking for saving my life instead of yelling."

"S'okay," he said and looked up at me. "I'm getting used to you yelling at me."

I laughed and ran a hand through my hair. "Says a lot about my character."

He tied off one side and went to work on the back of my leg. I was surprised by how quickly he worked. "You are the most stubborn woman I've met."

"Yeah, but I'm getting better at least apologizing when I've done bitten my own nose off," I smiled at him. He tied the other end off and wrapped a bandage around my calf. His hands fell to either side of my knees.

"I'm glad he didn't kill you," he said quietly.

"Me too," I meant that but not for the usual self-preserving reasons I normally felt. Something was different this time. He kept staring at my face. I leaned down about the same time he start to rise and our lips met gently. I hadn't though kissing him would be so soft. Nor did I expect my heart to start racing and my fingertips to start tingling. I pulled back and looked into his eyes again wondering if I'd lost an obscene amount of blood again or if he had felt that too. I shook my head and stood up. He was a killer and I was a pirate. We didn't get the luxury of tenderness, maybe passionate screwing but I didn't want that from him. At least not while he was still stuck on my ship. Nope, I was determined to blot his lips and hands out of my mind. I wish I'd had thought of that after I let those hands help me back to my cabin instead of hobbling painful step after painful step, alone, as always.


	12. The Oncoming Storm

Warning! This chapter contains a couple paragraphs of adult situations at the end!

Chapter 12- The Oncoming Storm

We followed the map as best we could given the winds weren't in our favor and the engine wasn't sounding too healthy. One of the fuel cells was struggling to keep up with the pace I was trying to set. I'd need to fix it soon. I figured we'd head for port in the Bahamas instead of looking for the treasure first. Besides, my side was nearly healed but now my leg hurt. I was slowly limping along but at least this time the crew didn't think the Saints had shot me. I'd told them it was Juan and then that the Saints killed him. That made them heroes of sorts.

"How many false leads are we gonna follow this time Jack?" Joey asked. We were sitting in the navigation room looking at the screens. I'd spent the morning steering and sniffing at the wind. It didn't smell right so I'd gone upstairs to bug Joey for a while.

"This isn't a false lead. The book told me where to go and nothing fools that book," I reminded him. My book had a tendency to guide my life along. If I needed something to fence in Brazil, the book would have a buried treasure off the coast filled with Portuguese coins. If I needed a place to hide, it gave me the land of dinosaurs, a whole island time seemed to have forgotten. Granted that one didn't work as well as I'd hoped. T-Rex was a lot scarier in real life than the books.

"If you say so," Joey rolled his eyes and looked back at the radar.

"I don't have another plan Joey, this is it," I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. "I can't work with the Saints on board, I can't throw them off because Ellie will go to jail for hiding me. If you can come up with something better, be my guest."

He was quiet for a moment. I hoped it was because he knew I was right. My dad had always been the plan guy and Joey just went along for the ride. Now I was the one who had to think of the ideas. Sometimes I thought my dad had been better at it.

"We won't make it to the Bahamas," Joey said and leaned forward in his chair. "Hurricane warning."

"Of course," I sighed. That was what was different about the air. Cooler and saltier from the storm it was bringing in. "Let me guess, heading right for us?"

"Big one too," Joey said. I leaned forward to see the massive storm swirling around the Atlantic. If we headed towards our destination, we would be hit right on. "We have to get out of the water. We can't outrun that."

"Remember how I said we should have hired a new navigation guy in Miami?" I asked him. "This would be why." I grumbled. With only Joey monitoring everything from sonar to radar plus making sure we stayed on course twenty-four hours a day, something was bound to get missed. This time it was the huge fucking storm blocking our path.

"We could hit up Sullivan's island?" He suggested.

"Can we make it there without crossing that?" I pointed to the radar again.

"Barely, but it's doable," Joey said.

I looked back at the radar one last time before standing up and walking out. Stairs hurt again so that took a while. After turning the wheel towards Sullivan's island, I yelled at the crew. "Listen up guys! We're taking a break at Sullivan's Island. Storm's heading for us so pack up anything valuable and get it off the ship when we dock tonight." They looked like ants running about after that. I went to my cabin and grabbed a duffel bag and put the lockets and the book at the bottom. I was shoving books and maps in when someone cleared their throat. I turned around to find all three Saints standing in my doorway.

"What's going on?" Connor asked and hitched his finger back towards the deck.

"We're making port tonight. There's a hurricane blocking our path, big one," I told them.

"Any place," Connor started, "interesting?"

"Not in the slightest," I zipped up the duffel bag and set it by the door so that I was standing next to them. "My dad's friend bought or stole, never did find out which, an island near here. We are guests in his house, so no shooting." I warned pointing a finger at them. It was like dealing with Marko all over again.

"An island?" Romeo repeated.

"Whole thing, usually we camp out on the beach but we're going to have to bunk with him. His house can withstand the strongest of hurricanes," I told them. The ship, on the other hand, I was slightly concerned about. "Get anything you don't want to find floating in the water packed up," I urged them out. "I have to call him to make sure he doesn't blow us up before we get to the dock." I shut the door on them leaving their mouths wide open at the one. Sullivan probably wouldn't shoot us. He knew the ship well enough. Then again, he didn't see very well and had a healthy fear of visitors.

Fortunately I got a hold of him before we got to the island. He was standing on the dock near his house in a green rain slicker waiting for us. The rain had started about an hour before we reached the island and the wind not too long after that. It took longer than normal to dock. I was afraid of smashing the ship into the side of the island so we crawled along. Then I made sure every inch of the ship was tied down and the sails tucked away on their mast. With any luck, they would still be standing once the storm passed us over.

It was close to ten at night before the ship was anchored down and the crew settled into the mansion. I had my own room facing the dock and the ship but most of the crew, Joey included since he was the one who missed the storm in the first place, had to bunk three to four to a room. That was still better than sleeping at the bottom of the ocean though. I rung my wet hair out in the sink of my bathroom and changed into a pair of blue pajama pants, the only ones I owned, and a tee shirt before going downstairs. Sullivan was sitting in the kitchen, his little white dog obediently at his feet. The old man had gone completely gray and wrinkled since the last time I saw him a few years back. He was thin and didn't look healthy. Then again, I never thought he looked healthy.

"Here," he handed me a mug of hot chocolate and a sandwich. "It's been a while girl."

"I know," I admitted and took a bite of the sandwich, peanut butter and jelly. "I've been a little busy."

"I've heard," he grumbled and I thought he wasn't going to continue on. He was always a little on the silent side. "You got yourself into a little trouble." He pointed to my leg.

"Misunderstanding," I smiled but I knew he could see right through me.

"Those misunderstandings are going to get you killed," he commented. "Who are the three new guys, the Irishmen and the Mexican?"

"No one," I said quickly and jammed a half of the sandwich into my mouth.

He was quiet for a minute before he said, "I've been having dreams."

"Oh not you too," I groaned. Maybe I had completely lost it. Maybe my mind lived in its own little world while my body was the funny farm.

Lightning flickered outside. Sullivan looked to the window with a sigh and then said, "your dad keeps visiting me, says you're in danger and that you'd be here soon."

"So I didn't need to call? Because that costs about a fortune," I said and then added, "I'm not in danger. Nothing bad has ever really happened." He looked at my leg. "I get hurt all the time. That has more to do with my clumsiness than my job," mostly.

"He says you're in danger of sliding down the wrong path, one you will never recover from."

"Hell," I dropped my head to the table, letting my forehead rest there on the wood.

"He's right," Sullivan put his hand on my back. "You're working for drug dealers and murderers now. You'll either become like them or they will kill you."

"I'm fine!" I snapped at him with my head still down.

"Now," he said slowly. "Maybe your destiny is to help the Saints."

I pulled my head up and looked at him despite my hair nearly covering my whole face. "Why'd you ask me who they were?"

"Giving you a chance to tell me," he shrugged. "You could have something real good with them," he paused again. "Especially with one of them."

"I'd rather take my chances with the drug dealers," I frowned at him.

"Just think about it Jack. You don't always have to do things the hard way." He gave me one more pat on the back and then walked away, probably heading off for bed now that I was slightly concerned for my sanity. And the creepy mentioning of Murphy.

The next morning, I woke up to thunder. Loud booms mixed with rain and wind hitting my window. I showered, in a real shower mind you. I know, stupid thing to be excited about but try lugging hot water up a flight of stairs to the tub in the middle of your bedroom. After the shower, I changed into jeans and an orange tank top trying to think of what to do. I wasn't used to having free time. I walked around Sullivan's mansion for a while gawking at all the paintings and photographs he had collected over the years. I knew the house had started off as nothing more than a shack, but he had built onto it over the years until it looked like the mammoth it currently was.

I ate breakfast alone, some of the crew passing in and out looking groggy. They had worked hard the day before, they deserved some sleep. I was starting to fear sleep. I hung out in the massive living room staring at the empty fireplace for a bit. The wind had picked up and the windows rattled along the wall. I went over and looked at the Sunset Ambrosia. She was still where I had left her but was swaying dangerously, like she was going to slip onto her side an minute. One of the cables had come loose. I sighed, mainly because I couldn't bear the thought of losing my ship.

The wind calmed a little around two in the afternoon. The ship was still rocking so I figured I could check on her while the wind was calmer. I found Sullivan's rain slicker in the workshop off the side of the house and enough rope to get me to the other side of the island if I really wanted to go there. I picked it up and went to the back porch. The twins were outside talking and having a smoke. I ignored them and pulled the hood to the coat up over my head and tied the end of the rope to one of the heavy, stone columns. Neither of the twins said anything to me, just curiously watched as I tied the other end around my waist estimating about how much I would need to make it to the ship. I took a step out into the rain and wind and prayed the rope held up.

It took twenty minutes to walk about a hundred feet to the dock which rocked along. I climbed up and looked around. It was pretty easy to find the cable that had snapped. It was flying about the deck like it was possessed. I grabbed a hold of it and quickly repaired it. The ship slowly stopped rocking as violently as it had been. I went to my cabin to check on the windows I had boarded up. They wood seemed to be holding well enough but I wondered what the glass would look like once I pulled the boards off. With my luck, they'd shatter into a million pieces.

I climbed back down and pulled the slag on the rope until it was tight. The trip back to the house was going to be worse since the wind was blowing against me now. It could easily rip me away and out to sea, worse death than shot by Juan in a field outside of Cancun. I wrapped the rope around my wrists and started to pull myself along, digging my heels into the soft grass and mud as I went along. When I finally made it back to the house, the twins were still standing there.

"See?" Connor pointed to me. "Fucking rope!"

Murphy rolled his eyes and looked to me for an explanation. I shrugged and he shook his head and went back into the house slamming the door behind him.

The storm re-intensified later in the afternoon. The wind and rain picked up and brought horrible lightning strike with it. I spent most of the day staring at the windows at the ship gasping every time she swayed and dipped too low. It got dark around seven at night. Sullivan told me it was because the storm was getting worse and blocking out the sun. He forced me into eating despite the butterflies fluttering about in my belly. I went back to the windows looking out during the lightning but that was making me sick with worry. I went to my room with a bottle of tequila hoping that would lull me into sleep.

I drank a couple of shots straight from the bottle and sat down on the bed determined to read. With the book open, I laid down on my stomach and read a whopping two paragraphs before I lost interest. I rolled over onto my back and hung my head off the edge of the bed thinking maybe I could go play poker or something with the crew. A knock on the door gave me hope that I could avoid losing all my money tonight. "Come in," I called.

The door opened and Murphy stepped in, same dark jeans and black tee-shirt. He raised an eyebrow at me and asked, "what are you doing?"

"Willing something interesting to happen with my mind," I said and sat up on the edge of the bed cross-legged. He stood in the space between the door and the edge of the bed like moving forward would kill him.

"I thought you'd want to talk."

"About what?" I asked him.

"After I carried you back to the ship," he said, obviously uncomfortable.

"Nothing to talk about," I said quickly and stood up to set my book back into my bag. I looked back at him, both of us standing. "Shouldn't have happened. Nothing more to say."

"You getting shot or the kiss?"

"Both," I said quietly and suddenly I was the one uncomfortable with the conversation. That and he was looking at me again. I never was good at dealing with men. I hated not knowing what they were thinking about me. Give me a guy who wanted to see me sleeping with the fishes and I was suddenly clairvoyant. Put a guy I'm even slightly interested in and I couldn't understand a thing about them.

We stood for a moment and I wasn't sure if he was ticked off that I didn't want to talk or if he was trying to decide what to do. A lightning bolt struck somewhere close and the thunder following shook the whole house. The lights flickered once and then died all together. "Damn," I cursed. "I should go find Sullivan." I said as the lightning lit up the room.

He was still staring at me with an intensity that I couldn't understand. The room went dark and I shivered. The next bolt that lit up the room showed him moving towards me and then his hands were on my hips pulling me to him roughly. His mouth found mine and I melted into the kiss. He was warm and inviting. His hands trailed up my back and tangled into my hair. In the back of my head a little voice said stop but then his hands went back down to my butt and hoisted me up onto his hips. That little voice was drowned out by the one who screamed I hadn't been laid in a year.

We fell into the bed in between lightning strikes, leaving piles of clothes everywhere. He looked down at me as another strike illuminated the room. His hand went to my stomach and the fresh scar from his bullet. He started to pull away but I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer. I kissed him for everything I was worth making sure he knew I didn't care that he had shot me. I didn't care right then that is. He was slow and meticulous, making me cry out over and over. Thank god I was the only bedroom on this side of the house. I held onto his shoulders until he finally collapsed on top of me completely satisfied. This was definitely going to complicate my life. Then again, what didn't anymore?


	13. Aftermath

Chapter 13- Aftermath

The storm died down sometime during the night. I woke up at about four and went over to the window wearing Murphy's tee shirt. It was still raining but not the pounding, beating down the window type rain. I couldn't see my ship yet, I hoped she was still there. I looked back to the bed where Murphy was still sleeping soundly, his arms flung over to where I had been. In the soft light I was letting in with the open curtain, he looked innocent. I wondered how someone so soft and gentle could be such a ruthless killer. Then again, I didn't know what it was like to be so sure of someone's evilness. Hell, I tended to walk that fine line between good and bad on a daily basis. I probably wouldn't know truly bad if it bit me in the ass, as long as I got my money. God, that made me sound so horrible, so much like a, well, a pirate.

It was pretty obvious that I shouldn't have slept with him. I turned away from him and looked out at the water thinking maybe if I snuck out of my room or something, I wouldn't have to deal with it. Granted, I did sort of thinking that burning deep within was largely in part to him. I knew virtually nothing about him yet I wanted to be around him. I was awkward and stupid when he was around and what little I did know about him didn't bode well for me. I wondered if I would go to hell for corrupting him into not killing me. I also wondered when I'd apparently started believing in hell. I had to get him off my ship.

That plan was shot to hell two minutes later when his arms went around me and his lips latched onto my neck. "What are you frowning at?" He asked against my neck.

"My ship," I lied. It was easier than to tell him I wasn't staring at anything really, just thinking about how confused I felt. Then his hands went up under my shirt and I nearly forgot the dozens of emotions coursing through my veins.

"It will be fine," he reassured me, lips still slightly trailing along my neck. He was still naked and pressed against me.

"That's my home," I giggled and tried to point to the window.

His hands and lips stopped and we both looked out into the darkness. "Home," he repeated and I was acutely aware that the only home he'd probably had in the past year was an eight by eight jail cell.

"Storm's passed us by," I said after a few minutes. "We should be able to leave soon." Assuming the ship was still afloat.

"And then where will we go?" He asked. A part of me like the way he said 'we.' He meant the crew, all of us, at least I thought he did. See, damn confusing men.

I hardened myself before I spoke again, determined to make he and I just about sex. I couldn't have a relationship with someone so wanted by the law, it wouldn't work. Hell, I couldn't have a relationship period without fucking it up somehow. "We have coordinates to follow. Blackbeard has to give me something sometime."

"And if he doesn't?"

"You have to stop killing the people I work for, at least long enough for me to get paid," I teased him but there was that big, unspeakable elephant between us.

"Tomorrow then," he said softly and kissed at my neck again. "Now come back to bed," he grumbled so low his scruffy goatee tickled my skin. And part two of my not getting involved with Murphy plan fell through as I let him pull me backwards.

The next time I woke up, sunlight was streaming through the window. It hit me in the face through the partially opened curtains. I detangled myself from Murphy and stretched. Still no electricity but my watch read seven o'three. I went over to the window to make sure everything was still there. A sigh of relief escaped my throat, the Sunset was still right where I'd left her. Some of the wood planks on the sides had seen better days, but she was still standing upright with all three masts fully intact. I looked back at Murphy and tried to feel regret. Tried being the operative word there. For all I knew, he'd only slept with me because I was the only woman around not to mention the mission from god thing. Oh and let's not forget my complete inability to relate to normal human beings, especially the attractive male types. Then again, that was probably the best sex I'd ever had.

I shook my head and stood up. Sullivan would need help restoring his solar generators. At least, that's what I told myself to justify leaving Murphy. I changed clothes quickly and went outside. Tree branches and leaved were everywhere but I found Sullivan alone in a shed about a half a mile from the house, his tool belt jangled along as he leaned over the main generator.

"I thought you'd be on your ship checking her over," Sullivan nodded as he saw me coming.

"Nah, I thought I'd give you a hand," I told him and squeezed into the tiny room.

"Not much to do," he grunted and pulled a screw driver from his belt. He leaned over again and went about replacing one of the cells. "But I could always use the company. Unless you'd like to head back to the house."

"No, no," I said quickly.

"I had a feeling," He said and pulled out another cell making sure it was healthy. "You know, you can't hide here all day and you sure as hell can't leave him here. You're going to have to talk to him sometime."

"What?" I asked feeling my face turn red.

"Oh the dark haired one," he paused from his work and looked at me like he was searching his own brain. "Murphy."

"Why would I be avoiding him?" I asked and tried to look cool and calm. Again, tried being the operative word.

"Don't play dumb Jack, my room's not that far away from yours," he grinned and my face went a whole new shade of red I didn't think the world had ever seen before.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I rolled my eyes.

"Stubborn little Jack," he chuckled to himself. "You make things so hard for yourself. Instead of telling him," he paused to tighten up another bolt, "you've fallen for him, you hide behind your job and ignore everything that you could have."

"I do not," I huffed. "And I have not fallen for him. I haven't known him long enough and I don't know anything about him really and how come I have to be the first to admit my feelings when I don't even want anything with him," I ran together.

"That's not what your dad says," Sullivan grinned again.

I looked at him for a minute trying to think of something to say but gave up and stormed off. I stormed all the way down to the dock and got on the Sunset. Nothing seemed to out of place. No windows had been broken, no water leaking in. The cannons had shifted a little and left tracks in the wood from their wheels, but that was an easy fix. My cabin was in the same shape I'd left her. Some of my books had fallen off the shelves and the cabinets on the wardrobe had spilled open but nothing that took more than a few moments to clean up. I stared at the windows and decided to pull the boards off.

The only way to go about getting the boards off was to tie myself to the navigation room and repel down the side of the ship. That wasn't too difficult, I almost dropped the hammer into the water below only once this time. I'd gotten most of the boards off, they were now floating in the water, before I heard someone above me. "What the fuck are you doing now?"

I looked up to see Murphy standing on top the navigation room looking over the railing at me. "I wanted to make sure the glass windows to my cabin were okay," I told him. So what if I sounded nuts ninety percent of the time?

"Is that even safe?"

I pulled at the rope and the harness a little. "I don't know, probably," I yelled back up to him grinning.

"Why don't you come up here? We need to talk," he said and pulled his sunglasses on.

"Nothing to talk about," I said and pulled a nail out of the board in front of me. "Did Sullivan get the electric back on?"

He ignored me. "We need to talk," he yelled again, more forcefully this time.

"Why don't you come down here than?" I laughed, trying to joke with him.

He didn't look like he wanted to joke around. He grabbed a hold of the rope and pushed it out until I swung away from the ship. I hung in mid air trying to grab onto the side of the ship but it wouldn't work. "Let go!" I warned him.

"Not until you come up!"

I hung there for a second without struggling. He had an eyebrow raised at me through the shades. "Fine," I yelled back at him. "Pull me up," I crossed my arms across my chest as he hauled me back up the side of the boat. I wasn't supposed to give in like this, then again, he wasn't supposed to hold me away from my own ship.

I led him back down to my cabin and shut the door behind him. He looked at me for a second before his arms went around my waist pulling me to him again. "This isn't talking," I pointed out.

"Didn't really want to talk anyhow," he grinned and kissed me again. He tasted like maple syrup and cigarettes.

"Oh this is bad," I said and pulled away from him. "Not the kissing," I paused. "Well, the kissing but not bad, bad." He was looking at me like I was crazy again, waiting for me to get to the point. "We can't kiss anymore."

"Fine, we don't need to kiss," he pulled at my waist again.

"No," I put my hand to his chest feeling his heart racing underneath it. That was a surprise. "We can't do any of it again."

He looked at me confused, and a little hurt. "Not that it wasn't good," I assured him, "but we can't be involved. I'm a mess and you're an escaped convict."

"That's your reasoning?"

"Yes it is," I nodded. I wasn't sure where this was going but it needed alcohol. "It's just better this way.

He stood rooted in his spot. I wasn't sure if he wanted to say something else or was expecting me to go on but then he left, swinging the door open roughly. He didn't know that if he would have just waited a little longer, I probably would have kept going and talked myself around to thinking that feeling he gave me, like I was flying, or back in middle school again with a crush, was a good thing.

"What the hell was that all about?" Joey asked and pointed after Murphy.

"Nothing," I shook my head. "Tell the crew we're going to set sail this afternoon."

"Okay," he leaned against the door frame and stared at me. "Something's different about you."

"Nothing's different, just go round up the crew," I sighed and wondered if Murphy would come back anytime soon or just go sulk down below.

Joey looked at me and then at the path Murphy had just made out of my cabin. "Jack, I'm all for you finding a man, settling down and having a couple of babies," oh god, now there's a thought, "but please, not with him."

"There's nothing going on," I gritted my teeth, frustration setting in.

"He's dangerous, a completely different kind of dangerous than anything else you've ever gotten yourself into," Joey warned like I didn't already know that.

"Go get the crew," I ordered. He looked at me once but then walked off.

A few hours later, we had everyone back on board and ready to go. Sullivan was standing on the beach as I steered the ship around the island once just to make sure she was really okay to go. Everything felt fine. Well, the ship felt fine. Murphy wouldn't look at me and I felt like my insides were churning about over that fact, but the ship was good. I leaned against the helm and waved to Sullivan. He was smiling along, standing there with his little dog. Something moved behind him and a man wearing a bad Hawaiian shirt stepped out of the jungle and waved at me. Sir William.

Fear and panic caught in my throat. I let go of the helm and ran over to the edge yelling, "Sullivan! Watch out!" My foot caught on a coiled up rope and I fell straight forward, great time for clumsiness. I stood up looking around for Sir William. There was no one behind Sullivan and my crew was staring at me. Even I was starting to question my sanity. Dreams about my dead dad and Sir William appearing every time I turned around.

I didn't get the chance to ponder that one. Something deep within the ship rumbled followed by the ship lurching forward slightly. Then nothing. "What the hell was that?" I yelled at the crew. I few guys took off running down below. I leaned over the edge and sure enough, we weren't moving. Shit.

"We're taking on water," someone reported back to me. "Engine's failed and the pump's not working."

"Great," I muttered. I'd settle with just one day without a catastrophe.


	14. That Sinking Feeling

Chapter 14- That Sinking Feeling

While in my haste to leave Sullivan's island, I had failed to notice the rotting wood on one side of the ship. The wood was a darker shade than the rest of the ship, most likely damaged by sand from the surrounding cove being slammed against it by the wind. The movement of the engines then knocked out said damaged wood and the water came in. Normally, this wouldn't be that big a deal except today, the engines flooded with water and decided to quit which left the pumps unable to work. Chain of events you see, all leading to my ship being stuck.

The crew went to work patching up the side of the boat immediately. We always carried steel plates for emergencies like this one. It wasn't pretty, but it would hold until we got her back to a dry dock to hoist her out of the water and fix the hole properly. Joey went down below to check the damage from the inside while I helped the crew outside. I couldn't bear to see the damage.

"How's the side?" Joey asked when I'd climbed back over the railing.

"Ready to roll," I gave a weak smile. "Will the engine work?" The remaining crew had formed a chain of hands stretching from the engine room all the way to the deck, buckets of water being passed up.

"More than likely it flooded, knocked out the engines and the backup generator," he scratched the side of his head. "I'd reckon we could get her started again by hitting the emergency restart."

"The emergency restart on the bottom of the engines," I asked him. He gave me a nod. "And how much water's down there?"

"To the stairs," he looked down at the deck again.

"Great," I muttered to him and went into my cabin to grab a flashlight.

"Jack," he called after me as I went for the stairs. "If you just let the guys bail out more of the water," he started but I cut him off.

"And we'll be sitting here idol for the rest of the day if I let that happen," I reminded him and skipped down the stairs. I didn't tell him about my hallucination; well I'd hoped it was just a hallucination. That was all I needed, Sir William to show up trying to kill me again. You blow up one house, a couple of boats, and steal a locket that leads to all the treasures our world could hold, and suddenly he holds a grudge over your head.

I pushed past my crew to stand at the top of the stairs to the next floor down. Sure enough, the water was just about to the top of the stairs, only four or so was exposed. Marko was at the top leading the way with the buckets. Connor was right behind him with Murphy and Romeo next in line. The crew didn't seem to mind them but then again, they were helping and their room was under water at the moment. I stood next to Marko for a minute with my eyes closed remembering the layout of the bottom floor as well as the engine room. I knew this ship backwards and forwards. She was my home.

"You could help you know," Murphy barked at me after a second.

I gave him the finger and pulled my goggles on over my face and flipped the flashlight on. Murphy was giving me that look again that said I was completely mad. I focused on how to restart the engines and submerged myself into the cold water. With the biggest breath I could manage, I went under and kicked off from the stairs. The pressure of the water had forced all the doors wide open so getting into the engine room wasn't hard. Bits of flotsam bobbed in front of the beam of light as I pushed the water along. There was just enough space between the water and the ceiling that I could get in another big gulp of air before I dove back down and hit the orange button on the top of the engine. She sputtered but eventually came to life, churning water about as the mechanics kick on. I got another breath of air and went back under and kicked the pump on pulling the hose along with me.

Marko was waiting for me when I surfaced again. He took the hose from my hands. "Verdict?" He asked.

"She'll move, slowly, but she will once the water empties out a little," I said gravely. The hose beneath his hands gurgled and he was off, looking for the nearest porthole to stick it out of. I turned to the twins and said, "you two can take Ellie's room next to Joey's cabin."

"Wait, they get a room now?" Romeo protested.

I shrugged at him. "Crew doesn't take you seriously," I leaned in a little. "I think it's the hair."

The other two laughed. Connor laughed at least. Murphy remembered he was supposed to be mad at me and frowned. His eyes went to the soaked clothes again and I rolled my eyes. With nothing more to say to either of them, I stomped back up to my cabin and changed into dry clothes that didn't smell like him. I sat down in my fluffy chair and tried to think of a plan. I had nothing. I picked up my sat phone and looked at the blinking light. Messages were usually either really good or really bad with that thing. I punched in a sequence of numbers and got, "Mr. Hong would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience," from a gruff, male voice.

I sighed and dialed another number. Mr. Hong wasn't entirely dangerous. He'd never outright tried to kill me and his son was good. He helped people in Africa affected by war. The phone picked up on the third ring. "Ah Jack, I was beginning to think you were avoiding me," Mr. Hong said. I could tell he was smiling through the phone. That was mostly a good thing.

"Side tracked by a brief hurricane," and carrying three convicts who had a knack for killing the people I did business with, I added in my head. "Please tell me you have a job for me."

"Treasure hunting not going so well?" He asked with a laugh.

"Currently no," I muttered. Plus I was losing my mind. "I can't feed my crew on promises of gold."

"I see," he chuckled to himself again and I debated hanging up the phone instead of listening to him bait me along. "Did you know Jeff Smithson met an unfortunate fate?"

"Really?" I asked trying to sound surprised as I inspected what was left of the black nail polish on my fingers.

"Seems his boat was blown up," Mr. Hong paused. "You wouldn't know anything about that would you Jack?"

"Who me? Never," I laughed. Hong had never liked him anyways.

"He had a storage facility outside of Charleston."

"Now that is a surprise," I sat up in my chair a little. "He wasn't exactly welcome in the US anymore." Or anywhere else for that matter. Which was way I wasn't upset when I blew his ship out of the water.

"We both know there are ways around that," he laughed again. "I was hoping you could go check it out on my behalf."

"You don't trust me enough for that," I reminded him.

"You're right," he paused. "That's why I just want one item."

"And what would that be?"

"He stole an original Picasso off a cruise ship a few months back. It would look wonderful over my fireplace." Did I mention aside from dealing in black market items, Hong had a habit of collecting art worth millions? He had never paid more than a few hundred thousand for each one. "Everything else, we'll call a finder's fee."

"And would that be my commission?"

"I'll pay you handsomely for it," he informed me.

There was a certain temptation about that offer. Money and all the stolen goods I could get my hands on. We could have food and alcohol again. We just had to make port, move quick, and hope the Saints didn't make too much noise. "I'll have to think about it," I told Hong.

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. "Don't think too long," he warned, "lots of others know about that warehouse. I like you," that was a lie. "You're quick and effective and I would hate to trust someone else."

"I'll let you know in a few days," I said and hung up the phone. I leaned my head back in the chair and thought about my options again. Normally, I would say to hell with Blackbeard's treasure and go get Hong's precious painting. Normally I didn't have two Irishmen aboard hell bent on ridding the world of evil. Blackbeard it was. At least for now.

I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning, spraying the hull down with a sealant to keep mold out once the lower level emptied of water. The engine room was a mess and I was just glad we didn't have anything hidden in the secret compartment. From there, I went back topside and took the helm. We were starting to move quicker, what with the engines working and the sails gathering wind. I had to steer us towards the Bahamas. Joey tried to take the held from my but I stood in front of it, my arms dangling over in between the spokes. The Saints had left me be, Joey had given them cleaning jobs as well. By the time the stars were blazing over my head, I was too tired to care where they were.

My head felt heavy and my body like stone as I slumped over the helm. I feel into sleep without realizing it until I lift my head again and I was standing in front of the rushing water of the Fountain of Youth. "Are you ever going to let me sleep?"

"You've had plenty of dreams without me interrupting them," my dad stepped in front of me, all smiling as usual. "How's Sullivan."

"You know damn well how he is," I cursed at him and folded my arms across my chest. "You need to stop messing with the people around me. I get the point, I'm supposed to help the Saints."

"It's more than that," he frowned. "Jack, you won't have many more chances."

I was quiet. His words chilled my blood because I knew what he was getting at. I looked at the ground. "You can fix this," he said and pulled my chin up with his big hand. "Just stop fighting it."

"I'm not fighting anything," I pushed him away and sniffled a little. Well, how would you react to having a ghost tell you that you were going to die soon?

"You're falling and you don't know it." He smiled again.

"I'm not falling for him, I don't even like him," I said stubbornly. "He's not even interested in me really."

My dad laughed. "I'm glad that's where you're mind went first, but you're falling," he grinned. A gust of wind rushed through out from behind the fall and knocked me over. He waved as I flew backwards and into nothing. My eyes popped open but I was still weightless until a set of arms grabbed me. Murphy leaned over me, holding me inches from the wood.

"You were asleep," he nearly whispered, inspecting my face in the moonlight. "And then you fell." At that, I burst into laughter at my father. "What?" Murphy growled and pulled me up to standing.

"I fell," I giggled. He didn't look happy as he pulled a cigarette out from behind his ear and lit it. "I had a dream and then you caught me," I straightened my face as best I could. "Never mind, I'm just having a psychotic break."

"Is that what ya call it?" He grinned at that one. He took a deep breath from his cigarette and let the smoke roll out of his open mouth. "What did ya see this morning that scared you so bad?"

"Huh?" Another dignified response.

"When we were leaving the island, you started screaming at the old man," he looked at me as I leaned against the helm. "I've seen you get shot, kidnapped, do some breaking and entering, and never once did I see that fear until you looked at the old man."

"I thought I saw something in the forest," I said softly and felt a new ripple of coldness go up my spine. If I didn't talk about it with anyone, it couldn't possibly be real. "It's not important."

He gave me a look but then turned his head to the water. "Where are we headed?"

"Bahamas, following the map. I'll drop you off for a day once we get a more solid heading," I was grateful for the change of subject.

"You're not taking any jobs," he said, statement, not question.

"Safer this way."

"For who? You or them?" Okay, so I didn't like this conversation anymore.

"Me," I told him bluntly and looked into his eyes. "And my crew."

He took another drag of the cigarette. "Even if it means working for murderers and drug dealers?"

"I don't deal in drugs or guns," I reminded him. Silence fell between us.

Finally, Murphy said, "did we ever finish that game of pool?"

"No," I laughed. "I believe I was kidnapped first."

"So, the steak dinner was never decided?"

I laughed and let go of the helm. "I'll play you a game of poker for it."

"Strip poker?" He laughed and followed me to the cabin where I knew a deck of cards was still in my desk drawer.

"No stripping!" I called behind me. At least I was back to my usual, insane and confusing daily life. I'd hate for anything normal to happen.


	15. Buried Treasure

Chapter 15- Buried Treasure is Never Easy

With the ship working at top shape, sort of, and Mr. Hong's offer still hanging over my head, I decided it would be in my best interest to chase Blackbeard some more. Sure, Mr. Hong scared the hell out of me sometimes, but the three killers aboard my ship scared me worse. Plus the last few times I'd tried to do my job, it hadn't ended well. I was beginning to think they were bad luck. Joey and I were standing on the deck, sharing a beer and watching the sunset pondering that one. "So, Hong wants us to clean up Smithson's junk," he said looking out at the water. "But you said no?"

"I didn't say no," I returned, "I just said I'd think about it."

"What's there to think about?" Joey asked.

"The Saints," I sighed. Not in that lovesick kind of way that would have made Ellie giggle, but in that way that said I was in deep shit with no other options.

"Drop them off somewhere nice."

"And then hope we get to Ellie before the FBI does?" I suggested. He looked over at me and then took a long gulp of his beer. I followed suite on that one. "We're a little fucked here in case you hadn't noticed."

"Okay," he was thinking again. Probably thinking of throwing my ass off at the next port along with the Saints. "We follow the map."

"We follow the map," I repeated and fell silent.

"You know," Joey said quietly. "They may be protected by God or whatever but we sure as hell aren't. Seems to me, you've been shot and kidnapped more than ever with them on board."

I was having the exact same thought but why would I tell him that? "No, I'm just going through an unlucky spell." As well as losing what few marbles I had left.

"The crew thinks all the bad things that have happened are a result of the Saints being on board," Joey took another drink and refused to look at me.

"They aren't bad luck," I said but something off in the distance caught my eye. Black helicopters closing in fast. In the second I had watched them, they'd advanced several hundred feet and I could hear the booming of their blades.

"Why don't you tell them that," Joey laughed a little as we spotted boats coming in behind the helicopters.

"Shit," I dropped my beer can onto the deck and took off running mumbling along the way, "they can't do anything to me, it's probably nothing anyways," until I got to the room that used to be occupied by Ellie but now housed Connor and Murphy.

"You need to hide now!" I yelled at them when I flung the door open. Connor was lying on the single bed lazily reading a book while Murphy and Romeo sat on the fold out couch playing cards.

"What the hell are you on about now?" Connor asked without looking up from his book.

"FBI, helicopters, boats," I ran together. "Now!"

All three looked at me like I had completely lost it which, let's face it, is entirely possible but Joey had seen them too. The choppers swooshed overhead and shouts rang out through the air. The crew started scurrying about loudly with their heavy feet. "See? I told you!" I yelled at them.

They moved into action, looking around the room for hiding spots. "Here," I rolled my eyes and grabbed Murphy's arm, the other two following along. I could see men in black gear and bulletproof vests on the deck pointing rifles at my crew. I watched to make sure they weren't looking in my direction before I pulled the guys down the hall and into the galley.

"In here," I pulled open one of the cabinet doors and found the lock switch with no effort. The whole front of the cabinet swung open revealing a closet sized space just big enough for the three of them to fit.

"Don't forget about us," Romeo hissed at me as I swung the door around.

I turned around just in time. Agent Miles stopped in the doorway as I hoisted myself to sit on the center island with an apple in my hand. "So this is where you're hiding?" He asked and folded his arms across his chest. Rubber gloves again.

"Nope, just hungry," I smiled and waved the apple. He watched me take a bite out of it.

"Your boat is being raided and all you can think about is a snack," he said in a monotone voice. The wrinkle in his forehead had gotten deeper. That was a shame. He used to be very handsome except for the lifelong mission of throwing me in prison.

"Ship," I corrected. No one ever got that right. "And I have nothing to hide," I paused and looked over the rumpled suit. He'd been on one of the helicopters from the state of his shaggy brown hair. "And besides, we're in international waters. You can't arrest me."

"I can when you're suspected of murder in more than one country."

I smiled again even though every inch of my being was screaming 'oh crap'. "Murder you say?"

"Juan Vasquez," he said shortly. "I don't mind that someone off-ed that SOB finally but the Mexican government has a problem with it."

"Never heard of him."

Miles gave a laugh and walked into the galley, running his hand along the wood of the island until he got to me. "Funny thing is, a boat with gray sails quite similar to yours was seen in Cancun the same night as his murder."

"Coincidence."

He looked at me waiting for signs that I was lying. "Hell Jack, I know you didn't kill him. I think the men you're carrying on this ship killed him."

"My crew wouldn't mess with a drug dealer like him, too much trouble," I said softly. That was true at least. No one liked Juan but no one in their right mind would kill him. The retaliation alone would do us in.

"I thought you said you didn't know him," Miles gave a slight smile. "We know the Saints killed him and we want them more than you."

"Gee, thanks. That's great for my self esteem," I said sarcastically.

"We want them because they're more dangerous than you," he looked around the galley and then back to me. "They've killed fifteen people in the past three months and your boat has been seen in every location. Still wanna tell me that's coincidence?"

I didn't say anything but looked down at the floor avoiding the cabinet. "Where are they Jack?" Miles nearly whispered. "Where are you hiding them?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm only giving you this opportunity once," he warned. "If I catch them on this ship I will take you down for harboring fugitives and then get you for every murder, every theft I can manage and you will never see daylight again."

"I don't know who they are," I repeated.

Miles sighed and sunk his head. "Jack, I know you're responsible for at least twenty five deaths, thirty-two burglaries, and the destruction of six buildings," he looked up at me. "I only tell you that because that's nothing compared to them. They've murdered at least seventy men, all mob related," he paused again. "They're dangerous."

"Please get off my ship," I gritted my teeth.

"Okay," he backed off. "But how long before they realize you are a criminal, not at the same scale as the others, but still a murderer?" He stood for a second before he shook his head and walked off.

I took another bite of the apple and listened for the helicopters to fly off. The all-clear sounded as I took another bite and threw the apple core into the sink. I hopped down and pulled the false front off the cabinet and Romeo popped out first followed by the others. The three of them stared at me as I hopped back up onto the island.

Connor was the first one to speak. "Who was that?" He asked and hitched a thumb towards the doorway.

"That would be Agent Miles, FBI," I sighed. Six eyes went wide in a hurry. "He's looking for you and for some reason he thinks you're on my ship."

"Now where would he get an idea like that?" Connor cracked a grin but the other two didn't budge.

"No idea," I rolled my eyes. "Point being, I believe him when he says being caught with you lot on board means a cell for me so," I took in another breath. "We're going to lay low for a while."

"Treasure seeking?" Murphy asked with an eyebrow raised once the other two had wandered off.

"No FBI or mobsters or Mexican drug dealers," that was a good thought, one that I had to linger on for a moment. "Just the open seas."

"That man," Murphy started. He stood in front of me, hands on either side of my legs so I couldn't easily make an escape. "He said you'd killed at least twenty five people."

"And thirty two burglaries," I added. "And don't forget six buildings although there have been some boats too but your number is far more impressive."

"We only kill murderers," he said quickly.

"Me too," I whispered, inches from his lips but then I backed off. I wasn't going to sleep with him again and in my brief experience, kissing him led to that. I did not need, nor want any more complications from men in my life. But he smelled so good. "I gotta go," I pushed at his chest and jumped down from the island, practically running away.

We made it to the map location a few days later. I'd hid out in my cabin and the navigation room hoping to avoid the Saints. Problem with that is, my ship's not exactly huge. Eventually we did stop moving and that required my assistance. The Saints were sitting out on the deck watching Marko and another guy gear up to dive. I could feel Murphy's eyes on me as I went over to Marko.

"Any trouble, tug at the extension line," I told him.

"I know," Marko rolled his eyes. He dove over the side. Murphy was still staring at me so I stared after Marko until the bubbles from the dive ceased.

"Why aren't you going down there?" Murphy asked joining me looking over the side.

"Joey's heart might not take it," I said looking at the water. "He thinks this treasure hunting business is a crock of shit."

Murphy chuckled a little. "Why are you avoiding us?" He asked.

"Because," I said and turned to him, just barely letting his form cross my eyes. He was wearing his black tee-shirt and the sunglasses. "It's better if we don't talk."

He smiled and I could tell he was thinking dirty thoughts. Hell, I was thinking them too but I turned back to the water. After a few moments he spoke again. "What do you think's down there?"

"A big chest filled with gold," I said. My luck had to change at some point and my crew needed fed. Blackbeard wouldn't hide from me much longer.

Blackbeard had other thoughts. Two hours later, Marko surface carrying what looked to be a plank of wood. Scrawled on it was another set of coordinates. I took it from Marko and stomped off to my cabin, Joey and Murphy following me. I pulled out a map of the world and did a quick figuring of where the coordinates led to. "You have got to be kidding me," I mumbled to myself.

"Where do they lead to Jack?" Joey asked with an amused look on his face.

"Nova Scotia," I rubbed at my temples and sat down in my chair. Murphy stood at the door while Joey looked over the map on my desk.

"And is there food for us there? What about money?" Joey pointed out. "How many false leads are we gonna follow?"

"Walk away Joey," I warned him.

"You need another plan," he said louder, forcefully.

"Joey," I gritted my teeth.

"Just because you have the hots for him," Joey pointed to Murphy, "doesn't mean the rest of us have to starve."

"Leave now," I reached behind the chair and pulled out my rifle, pointing it directly at his chest. He gave me a look but then started to go. He had a point. I had to call Hong. Nova Scotia wasn't a promise of cash and it was cold there.

"You gonna aim that at me next?" Murphy interrupted my thoughts with that grin of his.

"Nope," not yet at least, I added in my head and put the gun back behind my chair.

"Are we going to Canada now?" He asked and stepped into my cabin, shutting the doors behind him. That wasn't going to lead anywhere good.

"No, Charleston," I sighed. He leaned down in front of me.

"I thought you said lay low?" He said softly and pulled up my pant leg to look at the nearly healed gunshot wound.

"We're nearly out of booze and food," I tried to keep my breathing steady as his hands slid down my calf to my ankle rubbing at it gently. I'd given up on my keeping my heart rate down.

"What's the job?" Those damn hands moved up my legs to my thighs.

"Please don't ask me that," I looked into his eyes and I could see pity there for a second before lust clouded over and his lips found mine again.

"Can I ask about you having the hots for me?" He laughed and I said to hell with not sleeping with him. Just one more time, I swore.


	16. I Can Do Bad Too

Chapter 16- I Can Do Bad Too

A few days later, I stood on the deck, staring out into the dark blue waters ahead of us. It was the middle of the day and the sun shone down mercilessly. Romeo had shown he had some skill in mechanics and was down below with Marko and his guys working on the engines. They had blown another gasket leaving us only moving along with one. Joey pointed out to fix them would cost money. I'd placed a phone call to Hong and sent Marko and anyone who could help rig the engines into some sort of working shape downstairs. The twins, on the other hand, hadn't proven themselves to be useful to the crew and were sent back to sewing up the sails. As a punishment for Joey, I planned to make his show the Saints how to hang the sails next.

There had been no more dreams. Or any other warm bodies in my bed for that matter, but that was more my choice than anything. My father had never liked Hong anyways. I'd expected dreams warning me to stay away but so far, nothing. Maybe he knew Blackbeard was turning out to be a bust and we were all getting mighty hungry. Besides, there was a chill to the early fall air, even this far south. I couldn't ask the crew to head into the cold, cold north. And there was no way Hong would still be mad at me anyways. I'd taken a bullet for his son in Africa for Christ's sake. It was the Saints I was concerned about. They seemed to muck up my plans at every turn.

"What are you thinking about staring at that water so intently?" Murphy asked and I jumped a little. See what I mean about mucking up my plans?

"Nothing," I turned back to the water to keep from looking at him.

"You're a bad lair," he grinned and lit a cigarette. "We're not moving," he motioned down to the water below us with the lit cigarette, a trail of light gray smoke followed in a line.

"Very intuitive of you," I teased but kept a good distance between us. "Down to one engine."

"Romeo said something about that," Murphy agreed. We were both silent for a minute before he said, "something's been bothering me."

"And what's that?"

"You," he was staring at the side of my face in the bright sunlight. I wished I'd remembered to get my sunglasses so I could at least only feel him staring instead of seeing it out of the corner of my eye.

"You run away from me," he stated and took a long drag of the cigarette.

"We shouldn't be talking,"

"Why?"

"Because," I said simply. Because I liked him. Because he would eventually leave. Because he would want me dead sooner or later. "I have to keep a certain image going in order to keep control of my ship." That wasn't true entirely. My crew was afraid of my insanity.

He laughed, a good, throaty laugh. "Hell Jack, you scare me without even doing anything."

I looked at him sideways and grinned a little. I don't know how he managed to make me smile when I was trying to be Captain Hard-ass. "Yeah but to them I'm not allowed to see men."

"Ah, the celibate captain," he mused.

"To them, I'm just a guy with boobs," I laughed.

"No, you definitely have more than that," he grinned and took another drag of the cigarette.

My face flushed red in the October sun. Joey interrupted before I could embarrass myself anymore. "Phone call for you Jack, Hong's guy." He handed me the Satellite phone and gave a dirty look at Murphy.

I pushed off the railing and took the phone into my cabin wondering along the way if there was some sort of collect call system on the Satellite phone. "Yeah?" I asked into the phone. I was briefly aware that Murphy had followed me and was standing in my doorway again.

"Captain Jack I presume?" A thickly accented male voice I didn't recognize greeted me. "My name is Chi. I am sent to give you information."

"Chi, you don't sound very Chinese," I nearly laughed into the phone. He sounded Russian at best.

"And you don't sound like a man," Chi mocked. "You be here in Charleston day after tomorrow. I will escort you to the warehouse to ensure Mr. Hong's item is found. Anything else is yours."

"Day after tomorrow," I agreed and hung up the phone. Now I had a date with a Chinese-Russian man. I was becoming multi-cultured in my travels.

I threw the phone onto my desk and turned to Murphy who was still standing in the doorway looking amused. "You have another job?"

"We're going to Charleston," I told him simply. I stood near the desk to avoid anything soft and cushy, or the doorway to avoid something hard and inviting.

"Plan on getting yourself shot or kidnapped?" He grinned.

"I never really plan," I joked. The look on his face soured a little. "This job," I told him and bunched my hair around my shoulder in a ponytail of tangles. "It's not risky. My client has no interest in hurting me."

He stamped out the cigarette and stepped into my cabin sliding the doors shut. The room got darker in a hurry and he stood in front of me. "I worry about you," he said softly and put his hands on my hips.

"I'm a big girl and if I remember right, you've shot me too," I smiled at him.

"Don't remind me," he kissed my forehead. How someone could be that gentle was beyond me. "Maybe you should try and stay out of trouble."

"Don't know how," I teased. One of his hands left my hips and tipped my chin up to look at me. He stared into my eyes and a cold chill ran through my body like he could see straight into my soul, the good and bad. He leaned down and kissed me.

We stood there for a good ten minutes kissing, not deep kissing that lead to nakedness, but just being close. It was good to be held by someone else. God that sounded cheesy. It was true though. My last foray into dating hadn't ended well and this probably wasn't going to either, but it was still nice.

I pushed him away remembering I was still the captain of the ship. "You have to get back to work." He grinned but he went, story of my life.

We landed on time for a change, despite being two engines down and an unfavorable wind. I'd called Chi earlier in the day and found a discreet black car sitting on the docks waiting for me. I was going to find that painting with Chi and then call the guys in to load anything else I deemed sellable. "I'm going to be there," I pointed to a warehouse off in the distance, big and gleaming white.

The Saints, pea coats and sunglasses and guns, stood next to me staring at the warehouse. "I'd don't think that's where we're going," Connor grinned at me.

"It better not be," I warned under my breath. Murphy gave me a look but I rolled my eyes, hitched up my neon pink sunglasses, and headed to the waiting car. I stopped seeing a familiar Hawaiian shirt and straw hat in the distance. It was gone in a flash. I shook my head and went on my way. I didn't have time to worry about my latest hallucination.

Chi, or who I'd assumed was Chi, smiled at me as I slid into the backseat with him. He was huge. And definitely Russian. He had dark hair, big beard, and pale skin. "Welcome Jack," hr greeted me and motioned for the driver to go.

Immediately we went in the wrong direct, left where we should have turned right. "I thought we were going to the warehouse?" I asked and made sure my gun was still tightly in place around my calf. Chi seemed to trust me enough to not check for weapons. Either that or he was better armed than me.

"We are," Chi smiled.

"It's that way," I pointed into the opposite direction. I didn't know Charleston very well, what with it being an Atlantic facing port and all, but I knew the harbor enough. There was an access road that would have led right there. I'd used it the last time I robbed Jeff.

"That's the one the police know about, it's empty already" Chi told me, struggling for English. I wasn't so sure he could speak Russian well let alone Chinese either. "We go there," he pointed towards downtown. His forearm had a tattoo of a squid being speared. "Heart of city."

"Great," I muttered and leaned into the city thinking I should have asked where the Saints were going.

The other warehouse was less a warehouse and more the subbasement of a doctor's office. It was a maze of hallways and storage units. It took us an hour just to find the one that had paintings. "Well, job done," Chi gave me a smile and handed over an envelope he'd pulled out of his back pocket.

"She's a beauty," I looked over the painting in question as we moved towards the front of the rooms again. It would be impossible to sell but I'm sure Hong didn't have that in mind. More of a show piece in his home so when he invited politicians over he could go 'ha! I have this and you can't arrest me for it.'

"So I can have anything else?" I looked around the big room at the base of the elevator. It was mostly electronics. One caught my eye. "Hey! That's my TV!"

Chi chuckled and watched me inspect the TV in question. Jeff must have took it the last time he raided my ship and knocked me out. The TV was covered in stickers from all the bars I'd visited that sold merchandise.

"Anything you want," Chi laughed a little and sat down on a computer chair. It creaked under his weight. I felt bad for that poor chair.

"I'll start with this," I put a post-it on the corner and looked around the room. I went a little post-it happy for a couple of minutes before I heard the elevator ding. I hadn't called Joey. I pulled my gun out and waited for the doors to open. Chi had opened a candy bar and apparently missed the elevator completely. Okay, so he trusted me and wasn't more armed from the looks of him.

The doors slid open and three guys in ski masks stepped out holding black semi-automatics with silencers at me. "Oh come on!" I yelled at them.

"What are ya doing here Jack" Connor yelled through the mask.

"I got the warehouses mixed up. What are you doing here?" I asked. None of us had lowered the shook his in front of me as an answer.

"Him?" I asked and pointed back to Chi. He had dropped the candy bar and had a look of terror on his face. Yup, not armed, helpful. "He's not bad!"

"He works for a bad man." Murphy said quietly.

"Hong's a black market trader, he's not really evil," I rolled my eyes. I didn't mention how many times Hong had tried to kick my face in. That wouldn't help the argument. "This guy's just a lackey for him. He's not even armed!" The twins looked at each other and then back to me making a move towards him.

"No!" I pushed them both back. "He's harmless."

"Jack, get out of our way," Connor warned me.

"You will not kill him. He's a nice man!" I yelled back at them. Sure, I didn't know Chi that much but he was perfectly polite to me. He even showed me a picture of his thirteen year old daughter on the ride here.

"He's seen us!" Murphy yelled this time. "What are we supposed to do about that? Unless you're ok with everyone knowing you're the one helping us."

"No, Hong would string me up by my feet," I said and looked at Chi.

"Way to prove your point," Murphy muttered.

"I protect you from him," Chi pleaded.

"I have an idea," I dug around in the pack I'd slung over my back before coming here until I found a syringe. "Chi, I swear this won't hurt you," I pulled the cap off and approached him. "It's made from snake venom and mixed together by a witch doctor in Louisiana. It's just going to make you forget me and everything that happened tonight." I jabbed him in the arm before he had a chance to do anything.

He looked dazed for a second. "It stings," he said and put a hand to my face.

"I'm sorry," I told him.

"Your dad wouldn't like this," he said and his hand dropped.

He was going under in a hurry so I leaned into his ear. "You were robbed by two women. One Hispanic and the other a white girl, both brunette. The white girl had a snake tattoo down her right arm."

I turned back to the Saints and shook my head. I had just one syringe left and that had to be used on the driver of the car. I'd have to go back to New Orleans for more but at least we had the money. I picked up my TV on the way out not really caring if the Saints were following me out.

We had a long road back so I stopped at a pay phone dumped a few bucks worth of quarters in and dialed Hong's number. I gave him a line about being knocked out by two chicks and all my shit had been stolen. Hong didn't buy it but Chi and the driver should be coming around soon. Maybe he'd believe them more than me. I really didn't need him on my back too.

As soon as we'd started walking again, Connor looked at me and asked, "did you just pin this on two women you don't like?"

"Nope," I grumbled. "Thought of the complete opposite of the two of you." I motioned to the twins.

"Why not me too?" Romeo asked.

"There is no opposite of you."

Murphy was more ticked than Connor, and that took skill since I was walking next to Connor and could feel the rage coming off him in waves of red. "Why did you stop us?"

"Because Chi's not evil. He's just doing his job," I answered.

"You know who he works for," Murphy ground his teeth together.

"And you think killing Chi will send a message to Hong?" I nearly laughed. "He doesn't care about Chi or his family."

"Family?" Connor asked.

"Daughter and wife, immigrants in case you're wondering," I gave a fake smile to Connor. "He's just trying to keep the girl in her private school and into a good college all while putting food on the table."

"He could find other jobs, respectable jobs," Murphy's voice rose.

I stopped walking and stood in front of them. "I know you two have been out of the world for a bit so let me enlighten you to a few facts," I pointed at them. "The economy sucks right now. Jobs are hard to come by so you take whatever you can get because working for a questionable boss is better than watching your family starve to death." I spun on my heels and started walking again, faster.

"Is that how you justify what you do?" Murphy asked.

"My crew is my family, I can't watch them starve." We were silent all the way back to the ship. The Saints stomped off towards Ellie's cabin while I slammed the doors to mine. At least I didn't have to worry about keeping Murphy out of my bed that night.


	17. Defending My Job

Chapter 17- Defending My Job (As Usual)

I sat in my cabin alone for hours trying to think of something, anything to do. It was dark before I'd just about decided that I didn't have any idea where to go next. Joey tapped on my door at nine thirty exactly. "Do I want to know how the job went?" He asked..

"Not really," I muttered. He knew he'd never gotten the call to load up everything and that I'd come back with the Saints. He also knew things were a little tense to say the least.

"Are we still destitute?" He stepped in and closed the door softly behind him. Usually, that meant I was in for a severe talking to.

I took a long swing from a bottle of vodka I'd been nursing for the past two hours before I answered him. "I got Hong's money but it's only enough to fix the engines and stock up on some food, basic food."

Joey leaned against the door frame and stared at me. He was trying to decide what to yell about first. I'd known him long enough to know that look. "What happened?" He asked instead of yelling. He was quiet about it, more disbelief of our misfortune, my misfortune actually.

"I couldn't let them kill him," I said out loud. My voice scared me. It was too compassionate and unsteady. My world had become too complicated in the past few months, what with the line between good and evil becoming blurry. Or clearer, I hadn't decided which. "They were after Hong's man but I couldn't let it happen, he wasn't bad."

Joey stood silent again, taking it all in. "How did you deal with Hong?"

I laughed a little. Things between Hong and me had just evened out again. He didn't want me dead and I hadn't found anything of his that needed to be stolen and then this happens. "I knocked out his man and told him two women robbed them and me."

"Did he buy it?"

"Not even remotely," I smiled and took another drink. It was going to take a lot more booze to make this day make any sort of sense.

"And we're still sitting here because?" He asked trailing off to wait for me to finish his sentence.

"We're not going anywhere because that would look like we're running," and I didn't want to have the shit beaten out of me by Hong's thugs again, I added in my head. "Plus the engines need repaired." Also, we couldn't outrun him with just one working engine.

Joey gritted his teeth for this next bit. "What's your plan?" He asked.

"Send Marko to go find parts, he'll know someone with a chop shop with late hours. We fix the ship including the hole on the side and then follow the last plank from Blackbeard."

"The plank leading us to where did you say? Nova Scotia," his teeth ground harder. "in October."

"Shouldn't be that much ice," I said but he didn't look so convinced. He stood there, glaring at me. Probably trying to force my brain to explode with his mind. "Just go tell the crew they get the night off."

"Fine," he rolled his eyes and put a hand to the doorknob. "But I'm not dealing with Saints," he told me with a gin spreading across his face.

"Whatever, just as long as you're off the ship," I returned his grin.

I sat at my desk mapping out the exact route we would be taking up North. It was be a struggle to convince the crew to go with me, but I was confident at least one of them would help their captain since the coordinates were on land this time. I waited for the footsteps outside my door to quiet down before I cracked the door open. The deck was empty and the moonlight spilled over everything. I pushed the door wide open and went down a level hoping the Saints had seen everyone leaving and got the hint.

At the bottom of the stairs, standing in the middle of the crew quarters, I saw the light to Ellie's cabin on and the door standing open. Angry voices spilled out and reached my ears. "Maybe this is why Smecker sent us to her," Connor said loudly. "Maybe we're supposed to kill her."

"We don't kill women," Murphy yelled back at him.

"You've had the same dreams," Connor yelled back. He was silent for a moment. "You've seen what she's capable of."

They were quiet again before Romeo spoke this time. "She's not that bad."

"She's a thief and a murderer," Connor reasoned. "Even your uncle is afraid of her."

"She only steals from the bad guys and same with killing," Romeo's voice rose a little. I was starting to like him more and more. "What makes her different than us?"

"Because she works for them too," Connor said. There was a tense silence and I could imagine the three of them glaring at each other in a sort of showdown, one that decided my fate. "Look, I like her too but that doesn't change how evil she is."

"She's not fucking evil," Murphy yelled loud enough for me to jump.

"Well she sure as hell ain't innocent," Connor spoke. "Why else would I be dreaming of her? You've seen the one with her setting fire to a house full of people."

"I won't be a part of this," Romeo said and headed for the door. He froze seeing me.

"That house only had five people inside. Two were very, very bad, one was a maid, one a corrupt investment banker, and the other my best friend who'd been kidnapped," I told them. Connor and Murphy were both standing in the doorway behind Romeo. "And all five survived in case you were wondering.

The three of them stood in shock, wondering how much I had heard. "Please get off my ship now."

"They didn't mean anything by that," Romeo gave a nervous laugh.

I smiled at him as best I could. "Not permanently," against my better judgment. "Crew has the night off and I think we all need a few hours apart to cool off." I turned on my heels and went for the galley. I stood over the sink trying not to have a panic attack. Even without Romeo, there was still two of them and one of me. And they could shoot better even if by accident. I caught my breath again and took a fresh bottle of alcohol back up top. Ellie's light was off. By the time I got back up top, they we walking away from the ship down the dimly lit dock laughing along the way.

A bottle of vodka later I felt slightly better. I lit a cigarette and took a slow drag off the end and stared up at the full moon. My head was spinning and my hands felt all warm. Everything moved slower. I'd almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to be completely wasted. I'd had to keep my guard up with the Saints around. But right then it was just me and my ship. I loved the stillness. Even the water was calm as I took another hit off the cigarette. I let the smoke roll off my tongue and I didn't even care what the Saints decision about me was. I was happy right then.

"Jack," A voice whispered through my silence. I knew that voice. "Jack," it whispered again and a shiver went up through my spine. My hands didn't feel so warm anymore as I stood up looking around for him. Sir William.

"Where are you?" I yelled out shaking. I took an unsteady step forward and remembered why being this hammered wasn't all fun. My coordination sucked worse than normal.

"Over here Jack," he whispered again and it sounded like he was everywhere. A wind rustled through my hair and a light flickered at the end of the dock,

I squinted my eyes barely making out the figure standing underneath the flickering light. I set the bottle down on the wood deck and pursed my lips around the cigarette. It took a while but I fumbled my way off the ship and stood on the dock trying not to fall over. The figure had moved and left nothing but a long shadow with no source. "Where are you?" I yelled again and tried to move. I lost my footing and started to slip into the water.

"Whoa, I got ya," hands went around me and steady me to the wood. Murphy look down at me and took the cigarette from me. "What are you yelling about?"

"I thought you were gone," I muttered and reached for my cigarette. He swatted my hands away easily and took a drag from it. He threw it in the water before looking at me.

"It's nearly three in the morning," he frowned at me as he realized the problem. "How drunk are you?"

"I'm fine," I pushed his hands off me and turned for the ship. Of course that's what I'd hoped would have happened. What really happened was that I got mid-turn and tripped and fell to my hands and knees on the wood dock getting a nice splinter in my knee.

"Come here," Murphy groaned and pulled me back up.

"Leave me alone," I tried to go forward again but had nearly the same result.

"Why? So you can drown yourself?" He carefully moved behind me, his hands hovering at my hips ready to grab me if I started to fall again. Oh hell, it wasn't if I fell, it was when I fell.

"Better than you shooting me," I muttered and put one hand on the rope to the plank. Next challenge was getting my right foot up the three inch step. Easier said than done. I raised my foot and fell backwards straight into Murphy. Not what I'd had in mind.

"Let me help you," he said, gruff in my ear.

"No," I was being far too stubborn for as much booze as I'd consumed. I straightened myself and tried again. This time I fell forward.

"Fuck this," Murphy said and picked me up right off the plank and carried me up to the deck.

"Put me down now!" I yelled at him and wiggled around until he lost his grip. How we both didn't end up on the ground was beside me. "Don't touch me!" I warned him.

"I'm just trying to help ya crazy lass," he stepped forward forcing me back a step. Well, moving forwards was an issue so whatever made me decide backwards was a good idea is beyond me. I started to fall again. He reached out quickly to right me but I swatted at his hands as best I could getting him right in the face. He looked at me stunned. We both knew that wasn't the hardest punch I'd ever thrown.

"Stop it!" He ground out and grabbed my hands in his digging into my wrists.

"Leave me alone," I struggled to get away from him. I twisted around until he lost his balance and this time we did both end up on the deck, him on top of me. "Get off now."

He grinned and pinned my hands up over my head. "Calm down first."

"I am calm!" I yelled at him and tried to pull my splinter-ridden knee up but it did no good. He'd moved around so that he was in between my legs keeping them from moving. He was still grinning. I stopped struggling and looked up at him. "This isn't fair."

"How do you figure?"

"I'm drunk and you're enjoying this too much," I pouted.

He leaned down and planted one long but soft kiss on my lips before dropping my hands. "You taste like vodka."

"Drink of choice tonight," I muttered and let him pull me off the deck. I didn't fight this time as he flung me over his shoulder and carried me into my cabin. He set me down on my bed pulling my sneakers off in the process.

"Please don't kill me tonight," I told him. He stopped and looked at me with a frown. "I don't want to have this much alcohol in my system when they send my body back to my mother."

"I'm not going to kill you tonight."

"Good," I yawned and grabbed his hand as he tried to pull the comforter over me. "Please stay until I fall asleep."

He hesitated but eventually slid in next to me. I cuddled up to his side feeling him tense. "I'm sorry," I told him. He looked down confused and put an arm around my shoulder. "I'm making your job harder."

"I thought I was the one doing that," he laughed uncomfortably.

"Only a little," I smiled and set my head down on his shoulder. "I hope you didn't want to fuck."

He laughed deeply that time. "You can't even stand on your own. Why would I think that?"

"Because," I yawned again trying to fight the alcohol-induced sleep that was slowly taking over my body. "What else would you want me for?"

"What?"

"I'm evil, remember?" I laughed at the thought. I'd never considered myself good or evil, just me, trying to keep my friends and family happy. "We can't date since you're going to kill me soon and I'm really bad with men anyways," I mumbled feeling my eyes weigh down. "I'm the only woman around so process of elimination," I trailed off.

"That's not the only reason," he said softly and kissed my forehead. "Why couldn't you be a nurse or something though?"

The next thing I knew I was sitting on a rock overlooking the Fountain of Youth. My dad sat down next to me and said, "you're running out of time."

"Maybe it would be better for everyone if when they killed my, I actually stayed dead." I told him not really looking over at him.

"Just trust me for once in your life," he patted my shoulder.

I woke up the next morning with a headache that felt like a bomb had gone off right behind my eyes. I blindly found a bottle of aspirin and swallowed three before even attempting to open my eyes. Murphy was gone, had been gone judging by the coldness of the rest of the bed. Marko was in the engine room banging around not helping my head any. I didn't want to go outside but I had to inspect the progress.

We set sail not too long after that. Hong wasn't trailing me as far as I could tell, yet. The crew didn't look happy about heading North. Actually, they looked downright irate and the Saints weren't much better. They weren't talking to each other let alone me. Every time I did catch them talking, they were whispering and pointing at me. Not a good sign of anything. I was beginning to look forward the icy silence of the cold North. Assuming we made it that far first.


	18. Into the Wild Blue Tundra

Chapter 18 Into the Wild Blue Tundra

The crew didn't like the cold. We hit the Atlantic and the air changed. It was colder and saltier. They didn't need me to tell them we were chasing Blackbeard again. They moved slower, taking the ship with them in a silent protest. We'd been traveling against the wind for eight days with one more day still to go on a trip that should have taken maybe five tops. They didn't want to go North, I knew that from the speed we were moving. That and none of them were talking to me. Even Joey was protesting my decision. The only thing he told me was that I'd better hope I found something in Nova Scotia because we couldn't afford to buy much food after fixing the ship. I was facing mutiny that even my insanity couldn't prevent. On the bright side, I hadn't had any more dreams or visions of the mass murderer known as Sir William.

Being ignored by the crew also meant I spent a lot of time on my own. By the time we hit Canada, the crew had abandoned me for the warmer temperatures down below deck. I didn't mind so much as long as the ship kept moving. Joey sat up in the navigation room pretending I wasn't on the deck looking out for ice jams. Even the Saints were staying below, granted I thought that had more to do with me than the dropping temperatures. Connor had tried to apologize once but he just couldn't force the words out of his mouth.

Since I was the only one out on the deck the night before we were set to hit land, I decided to listen to my dad for a change. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and took my book, the lockets, and a bottle of rum out onto the deck below one of the masts. It was a clear night, the moon shone its half crescent face down on me. It wasn't the best moon I could have wished for, the diamonds on the lockets wouldn't shine so bright, but it was better than nothing. I sat down and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. I could see my breath and my teeth chattered until I took a long swig of the booze.

"I want to find the Fountain of Youth," I said with a sigh. I hated doing what I was supposed to do. The book flew open without my help to a page. "Shit," I muttered and opened the lockets.

I'd never believed in destiny or anything like that, but this book was starting to teach me a lesson. Also, having conversations with a dead man helps too. "Most people make the mistake of going in the wrong direction, mainly by going North," I read straight from the coded page. "Helpful," I frowned at the book and looked up at the cold, night sky. I could see my breath again. It was time for more rum.

I took another long swig from the bottle before going back to the book. "The second mistake people make is assuming the Fountain of Youth brings eternal life." I rolled my eyes and slammed the book shut. I'd had enough of it. To hell with my father. If I died, I deserved to stay that way. I nodded to myself and sat back away from the book. The pages flipped back open to the same page. "No," I yelled at it and slammed it closed again. "I'm not doing it." I crossed my arms and watched as the book flew open again.

"Do you always talk to that book?" Murphy snuck up behind me again and I jumped as he sat down beside me.

"Jesus Christ, make some noise next time," I warned him and shut the book hoping it stayed closed this time. I pushed the lockets out of his view.

"Ignoring my question again," he grinned but it faded again like he'd remembered he was supposed to be avoiding me.

"Do you think we could actually talk without arguing or things going all weird?" I asked him with a teasing smile.

"Okay," he was quiet again. His eyes went to my book and its strange markings. "How about we talk about last week when you were drunk."

"Never mind," I said, "let's go back to arguing about how much you want to kill me."

He smiled again. "I don't want to kill you."

"But you think you should," I added.

"I don't know," he admitted and ran a hand through his hair. "You muck things up."

"Story of my life," I laughed and took another drink. He was lighting a cigarette so I figured it was okay for me to have a drink or two. Or eight depending on how this conversation ended.

"You think I only wanna fuck you," he pointed the cigarette at me.

"What else is there?" I posed. "You gonna take me out to dinner?" I teased him.

He gave a little laugh and took a deep inhale full of smoke. "I don't know what I want."

"See, there's your problem," I pointed out. "You can only see in terms of good and evil and nothing in between. I confuse the hell out of you because I'm in that middle ground," I took another sip and watched his face in the moonlight. He looked tired. "Yeah I've murdered some people but all those men were bad. I steal but only from those who have stolen first. I work for who I can to keep my crew fed."

"You could do something else," he suggested.

"It's crossed my mind," I laughed. Everyone thought it would be so damn easy for me to give up my life of piracy. "This," I motioned around me. "Is all I'm good at. I suck at society and land. I don't know how to do anything else." I was even worse with men and dating but why tell him that? He'd probably already figured that one out all on his own.

He contemplated this for a while, letting a few smoke rings out of his mouth. "You could fish," he suggested.

"No money there," I dismissed it.

"Just treasure seeking?"

"Only pays when I find stuff," I frowned and looked back to the lockets hidden under the corner of my blanket.

"You've found more wrecks than anyone else," he commented.

"Yet here we are, heading North hoping this one leads to something other than another set of coordinates," I muttered more to myself than to him.

"Do you think Blackbeard's treasure is there?" He asked, studying my face.

"It has to be because we're almost out of money again," I sighed avoiding his gaze. I wished he wouldn't look at me like that, like he could see straight into my soul. I didn't even want to know what was there.

"And if it doesn't?"

"I go back to running cargo and you're not allowed off the ship until after I've gotten paid," I tried to make a joke but it came out more serious than I'd meant it to. Mainly because I'd been thinking that would be my best bet for making a quick buck.

"Locking us up won't help," he said and I knew he was right. It would only help them chose to kill me faster.

"We're not entirely on opposite sides you know," I said and stopped my mouth from asking what gave him the right to chose who got to live and who died.

"Close enough," he mumbled and rubbed his cigarette out. He stood and walked off leaving me alone in the cold with my book.

"I'm not looking it up tonight," I warned the book. It wisely stayed shut this time.

The crew decided to not help me dock the ship once we got close enough to land. It was snowing lightly. Not enough to stick to the ship, but enough to remind us that we were too far North, too far out of our element. My west coast crew hadn't been around snow in far too long. I leaned over the edge of the ship making sure we weren't going to hit land again before I raced back across the deck and lowered the anchor. I let go of the handle and the anchor dropped hard, straight through the thin ice and into the frigid water. I let it settle before I went below deck. They had a few space heaters roaring in the corners of the room. Hot air hit me in the face through my heavy coat and wool hat.

"I need a few guys to go with me," I told them once getting their attention. They were quiet before a massive round of laughter filled the air.

"Okay, fine!" I yelled over them. "I get no volunteers, you get no pay!" They went quiet at that one and all eyes were on me. "Anyone?" I asked quieter. They looked at each other and the floor but no one stepped up.

I sighed and walked towards Ellie's cabin. The three Saints were playing what looked like poker. "Hey, I need some help."

"About fucking time she admitted it," Connor grinned and looked at his cards.

"Not like that smartass," I rolled my eyes. "I need to go on land for the coordinates on the plank."

"So?" Murphy shrugged. Still wasn't happy about our last conversation.

"My crew doesn't own jackets but seeings how you all seem to be from Boston," I trailed off and looked over at the bags they'd recovered from the second cargo unit. A look passed between the twins. "I'll pay you." Romeo didn't look up from his cards.

"Never mind," I turned on my heels. "I'll do it myself."

I stomped back up to my cabin cursing all the way. With one more layer of mittens over my hands, a shovel tied to my backpack, and my rifle slung over my shoulder, I slid on my boots and went back on deck. It was still empty, an odd sight. The snow was beginning to stick. It coated everything with a layer of fluff and ice on the warmer parts of the ship. I looked at the compass in my unusually large hands. Once I had the row boat in the water, it would take maybe a half hour to get to land, then another twenty minutes of walking. Hopefully hypothermia didn't set in before then.

"Do you always have to be so stubborn?" I turned around to find Murphy bundled up against the cold, cigarette sticking out between his lips. Connor and Romeo stood behind him.

"Didn't know I was the one being stubborn," I went back to lowering the row boat off the side of the ship until it hit the thick water. "I'll be back in about two hours. If Joey tries to throw you off the ship or leave me behind I give you permission to shoot him," I said with a sigh and swung my leg over the edge of the ship towards the waiting ladder. "Just not fatally," I added. I'm sure my dad would have something to say about me telling them they could kill his best friend.

"We're going with you," Murphy grinned. Well, my afternoon was going to be interesting.

The twins took the oars away from me so we hit land in less than ten minutes. The water was chunky from ice, kind of like a giant slushy, but it didn't seem too difficult for the two of them to cut through. "Now what?" Connor asked me once we were standing on freshly packed snow.

I looked around the vast whiteness. It was everywhere. Behind us was the dark water and the ship in the distance but straight ahead, for as far as I could see, was a white blanket of snow. Hills and trees were gone. I looked down at my compass and then pointed north. "That way."

"Great," Connor looked over to Murphy. "We're going that way," his voice sarcastic as he pointed too.

After a few minutes of walking, Connor got bored and asked me, "so, what exactly are we looking for?"

"Well," I stopped because he wasn't going to like this next part. "I'm not exactly sure," Connor and Romeo let out groans.

"So we're just walking until you say stop?" Connor asked.

I held up my compass. "I have coordinates."

"I think she's walking us to the middle of nowhere with no witnesses so she can shoot us," Romeo joked but no one laughed. I didn't because the thought had crossed my mind more than a few times.

"I'm sure there's something out there," I looked ahead to more white. The snow was starting to fall harder slowly covering our tracks as we got further inland.

"Anything we should be looking for?" Murphy asked trying to be helpful.

"It'll be something small I'd imagine. A marker," I checked my compass again making sure we were still heading in the right direction. All three were looking at me again like I'd grown that extra head. You'd think I'd be used to getting that look from people but oh no, still a surprise every time. "We're not looking for a big neon sign or anything." I started to trudge on again.

They were quiet for a full two minutes before Connor asked, "are you sure there's something out here for us to find?"

"There has to be," I grumbled.

"Right," he stopped walking. "How do you know?"

"I just do alright," I nearly yelled at him. Maybe it was the cold or the fact that we should be getting to the coordinates soon and I still only saw snow, but I was becoming irritable.

"You just do?" Connor repeated.

"Yes," I yelled this time. "How do you know who to kill?" I posed at him.

"It falls at us," Connor explained shortly.

"Same thing with me," I rolled my eyes at him and started walking.

"So this is a mission from God?"

I turned back to face him. "How are you so sure killing supposed bad men is your mission from God?" I pointed a finger at him through my mittens.

"Because those men are evil," he shrugged. The other two men listened on. I'd hoped Murphy would have defended me a little but I knew that was naïve to expect that from him. I was just some woman he'd slept with a few times. "They murder and rape innocent people for what? Greed, lust, personal gain?" He looked right into my eyes at the greed part.

"This is useless," I threw my hands in the air. "There is no gray areas for you three," I turned and started walking again, not really paying attention to where I was going, just blindly trudging through small snow banks. "You're either good or bad, no reasons to be in the middle. Nothing like stealing to feed your family because there's no jobs or killing someone in self defense," I muttered to myself.

"Um Jack?" Romeo tried to interrupt me.

"Oh but I'm sure you'll say something about only going after the big fish," I held a hand up in the air in a gesture towards them. "Well I'm a fucking big fish and I only do what I do because there's nothing-" my words turned into a startled yell because the snow under my feet gave way and I sunk straight through.

"The snow dips down there," I heard Romeo say.

The twins peered over the edge of the hole I'd fallen through, both looked a little worried. "I'm fine," I yelled up to them and stood up in the small hole hoping to see mounds and mounds of gold. Instead I was looking at the hull of a tiny boat. It couldn't have been more than fifteen feet long in her glory days. Now, only the hold remained and even that had been reduced to a six foot circular cave.

"What's down there?" Murphy yelled over laying in the snow to get a better look at me.

"Nothing," I said with a sigh and put my hands on my hips. I'd only fallen about seven feet down so the light beaming down lit everything. There was an empty bottle lying to the side of a pile of broken boards. I spun around and saw something familiar carved into one of the walls. "You have got to be kidding me."

"What is it Jack?" Murphy called down.

"Shit," I muttered and pulled one of the planks off the side of what used to be the hull. "Another fucking set of coordinates." I cursed and read them. Of course these had to be in the Southern Hemisphere. Joey was going to have a field day with this one. I slid the board into my backpack and went over to where Murphy could see me. "Do you think you could pull me out?"

"We could use some rope," Connor mentioned with a grin.

"Shut the fuck up," Murphy yelled at him. "Grab one of her arms."

I put my hands up in the arm climbing as best I could on some of the boards. They were over two hundred years old though and crumbled as the two grabbed my wrists and tried to pull. "Hey guys?" Romeo called out. "I think there's something moving out here."

"There's nothing moving," Connor said grunting as they pulled. "This would be easier if you didn't have so much shit strapped to your back."

"I'm not giving you my gun," I warned him as they finally got enough leverage in the snow to pull my clean out of the hole. We sat in the snow for a moment trying to gain enough momentum to start back to the ship.

"I thought you said you were sure there was something here," Connor told me with a grin.

"Yeah, she just knew," Murphy laughed.

"Shut up, both of you," I smiled because it was better than having a nervous breakdown right in the middle of the snow. "Come on," I stood up and took Murphy's arm trying to pull him up. "We should be getting back to the ship before Joey gets any bright ideas."

"Ah, space heaters," Connor joked.

Romeo hadn't said anything since I'd been pulled out of the hole, he just stared off in the hazy distance through the falling snow. I followed his eyes and could just make out a shape moving towards us. "Umm, I think there is something moving."

"Not you too," Murphy laughed but stopped once he saw what we were looking at.

It was big, like at least nine feet tall and gray in color, advancing quickly. I could make out it's thick, shaggy fur now. "I think we should run for the ship now."

"What is that?" Murphy asked as I slung my backpack tighter over my shoulder.

"Nuk-luk."

"What?" All three asked me not seeming to want to move too quickly.

"Nuk-luk," I repeated and thought back to the warning the book had given me. The one I'd ignored about a cold monster protecting the last bit of Northern wilderness. The guys didn't seem too concerned about the nuk-luk. Granted, they just looked like they had no clue what the hell I was talking about. "Yeti, abominable snowman, Big Foot, whatever you want to call it, it's coming for us and it looks pissed."

They didn't need to be told a third time because they got the gist that time and followed me. The trip back to the row boat was much quicker. I only fell once. "I thought that was just a legend." Connor gasped for air as we pushed off from the shore.

"Yeah, hang around me long enough and you're sure to see something weird." I said watching as the guys started rowing. The nuk-luk stood about fifteen feet from the shore, snout up in the air sniffing after us. Icicles clung to his matted fur. He looked right at me like it was a warning that I shouldn't come back here ever again. Like I needed to be told that one. Nope, I was going to stick to the warmer climates where I only had my father haunting me.


	19. The Definition of Evil

Chapter 19- The Definition of Evil

With the ship firmly pointed in the general direction of the Caribbean, the crew seemed happier. At least they didn't look like they were considering throwing me overboard nearly as often. I'd thrown the next plank onto my desk as and we'd been wandering aimlessly around the Atlantic since. The next set of coordinates from Blackbeard led to somewhere off the coast of Peru. After mapping that one out, I'd decided to go back to the book. If I remembered right, there was a huge prison similar to Alcatraz near the coordinates. I was sure if I wanted to know who Blackbeard thought should be in jail.

Since leaving Nova Scotia a day and a half ago, I had just been heading South, hoping a plan would pop into my head. Or money would start raining from the sky. Neither had happened. It was dark out so I pulled a sweater over my head, the air was getting warmer but it was still chilly, and went out on deck with my book and the lockets. Everyone was still below, presumably still ticked at me and cold, so I sat down on the wood, balancing the book on my lap.

"I want to find gold," I said and leaned forward to open the lockets in front of me. The diamonds sparkled in the moonlight like twinkling Christmas lights when you've forgotten which one of the little bastards is the flickering light. Next, I went back to the book. Now, normally when I said a statement like 'I want to find gold,' I'd open the book to a random page and it would be something like a sunken ship from the Spanish Armada or a hidden piece of the Templar's fortune. The book had always helped guide me. When I opened the book this time, I managed to pick the page for the Fountain of Youth.

"No, I'm not going there. I don't need to go there," I grumbled and slammed the book shut. I folded my arms across my chest and stared at it for a moment. I knew the legends. People had spent a lifetime searching for the fountain that supposedly existed somewhere around the coast of Florida. It was supposed to make anyone who drank from it immortal. I didn't want to live forever, hell the world couldn't take me living forever. I just wanted to feed my crew. Well, I wanted to do whatever made them not throw my ass off the edge of the ship.

"I want to find gold," I repeated trying to keep my teeth from grinding together. I ran my hand along the pages before stopping and tried to slide my fingers into the pages. The usually pliable paper was rigid and stiff, almost like cement. The pages felt like they'd been glued together and refused to pull apart.

"Open!" I yelled at the book and tried to pry the pages apart with my fingers. Nothing would budge. I held the book up by the front cover expecting the pages to flutter open but no, it stayed closed until the weight of the book became too much for my hand and it dropped roughly to the ground, booming out across the empty deck.

I stared at it for a few second, wondering if a hammer would get it open. Of course it wouldn't, I thought to myself. It would probably break off and whack me in the face or something. That was my luck lately. All the dead gangsters and Blackbeard's false leads was only leading to me being completely broke, hungry, and crewless. "Stupid book," I muttered and picked it up again, determined to force it open. I grabbed a hold of the front cover and put my bare heel against the pages and the book cover and pulled up as hard as I could manage. The covers didn't budge nor did the pages move. They didn't even bend like most books would have. In fact, the book felt like it was pushing back against my heel.

After a few minutes, I was panting. I dropped the book and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. "You can stop laughing at me now," I called out. Joey had been standing behind me for the better part of my tirade.

"Don't mind me," he chuckled, "you just keep trying to pry that thing apart."

I sighed and snapped the two lockets shut. He was still watching me as I stood up. He looked tired. "Any reason why you're speaking to me again?" I asked.

"Crew's getting nervous Jack," he told me.

"Anything in particular?"

He laughed a little before he said, "we can all see the food supply and there's a nasty rumor going around the crew that you didn't find anything."

"Everything's fine," I assured him. I didn't even believe myself.

"Whatever happened to the woman who used to tell me everything?" He asked quietly.

"You stopped trusting her decisions remember?"

"Because she started working for drug dealers," he reminded. "You need a plan Jack because we're running out of food."

"I know," I looked up at the night sky, frustrated by the way things had turned out so far. "Do you have any suggestions here Joey instead of judging me?"

He didn't say anything so I went on. "Blackbeard's got me chasing coordinates, the damn book won't help, I'm having dreams about my dead father, and the Saints fuck up every single job I can get, so I'm sort of at a loss here."

"You need to go through your contact list and find someone clean to transport for," he suggested softly. "And then not let the Saints off the ship until after we leave."

"That'll go over well," I muttered.

"It's either that or the crew will walk at the next port," he said. I was a little hurt, I didn't know things on the ship had gotten that bad. Then again, I supposed that's what happens when you spend all of your time with your head in the snow.

I thought about all my options. There weren't many. "Okay, I'll talk with them later." Maybe if I started with Murphy, things would go better.

It took one whole day to work up the nerve to tell the Saints they wouldn't be allowed off ship in Corpus Christy. I'd found a job hauling wood for a furniture maker. He wanted to see the ship first before he ensured us the job. He was mostly clean, except for the buying illegally chopped wood from the rainforests in Brazil, but I wasn't going to take any chances.

While the crew was busying on deck playing poker and generally having a good time, they'd been better since I told them no more following Blackbeard, I made a steak and baked potato. I put it on a plate and balanced two bottles of cold beer between the arm holding the plate and my boob and went to Ellie's room. Murphy was sitting on the bed reading one of her old _Cosmo_ magazines.

"Good reading?" I asked him.

"You women are nuts," he grinned.

"Connor around?"

"He went to go play cards with Romeo and your crew," he said and flipped the magazine shut. I didn't recognize the woman on the cover, surprise, surprise.

"Good," I pushed the door open further and went in setting the plate in front of him. "I believe I owed you a dinner."

"Look at this," he grinned. I popped the cap off one of the beer bottles and handed it to him. "And smiling even." He put an arm around my waist and gave me a quick kiss. "Guess I'm glad you're so bad at poker."

I laughed and sat down across from him, taking a long sip from my beer bottle. This was going to need heavier alcohol but Joey had hidden all of it from me until after I got us more money.

"This is good," he said while digging into the potato. "Where's yours?" He asked.

"That's the last steak and we don't have many potatoes left," I explained. "My crew eats before I do."

He frowned and cut the steak in half and handed me his fork. "Eat crazy woman,"

I smiled and took a bite before giving him the fork back. "There is something I wanted to talk to you about."

"I knew you had an ulterior motive," he grinned and took a drink of the beer. "Let's have it then."

"I have to take a job in Texas."

"So?" He asked.

"And given how well my other jobs have gone," I paused and took another drink. Damn Joey and his need for me to have a clear mind. I hated my clear mind. It couldn't talk to guys I liked. "I've decided that you and your brother and Romeo won't be allowed off the ship while we're there."

He was quiet for a second, the only sound in the room was his chewing the steak but he wasn't looking at me. "That wasn't our deal."

"I know," I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. It got stuck. "But we need this job and I can't afford you killing anymore of my contacts," he looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "This guy's not even a bad guy, he just needs some illegal wood."

"Not bad," Murphy repeated. "You say that a lot."

"Because you can't see anything in between," I reminded him.

"I saw you," he mumbled and looked into my eyes.

"Great," I shook my head getting angry without really knowing why. "Now I'm lumped in with them." I stood up. "How do you know this one's like the others?"

"You won't let us off the ship."

"I'm running out of food and I'm not risking you screwing our chance at honest money up," I told him.

"Honest money," he laughed a little. "Illegal wood?"

"It would get cut down anyways," I rationalized. That much was true at least. With the rate of deforestation in the Amazon, those trees still would end up as either fuel or furniture. I didn't like it but I couldn't stop it.

"We had a deal," he said again.

"And I'm still the frickin' captain of this ship, I say you stay unless you don't plan on coming back," I threatened and tried to hide my racing heart from him.

"Maybe that's a good idea," he nearly yelled.

"Maybe it is, maybe you've overstayed your welcome," I gritted my teeth.

"Wasn't much of a welcome anyways," he muttered.

"Fine, pack your shit, I don't want you here anyways," despite the little voice in the back of my head that sounded nothing like my dad and was screaming that I did want him here. Instead of listening to that voice, I turned on my heels and nearly ran out, crashing into Connor as I went.

"Where ya going so fast?" He asked with a teasing grin on his face.

"Go fuck yourself," I rolled my eyes and started a list of all the places Joey could have hidden my booze.

He wasn't very imaginative, hiding a bottle of vodka underneath one of the engines. I drank the better part of it and passed out on my bed before nine o'clock. I don't remember dreaming but I was suddenly standing in front of the Fountain of Youth. My father stood beside me. "Did I drink myself dead?" I asked.

"You're not dead Jack."

"Drink myself into a coma then?"

"No," he laughed. "I fear this is the last time we will meet like this."

"Oh good, so I did drink myself dead," I grinned at him. He didn't smile back.

"You fought with him again tonight." My dad told me simply, easily like he had known it would happen all along. Granted, a monkey probably could have seen that fight coming a mile away.

"I have to feed my crew," I started.

"I understand," my father stopped me. "But I understand his side too. You can't stop him Jack and you can't stand in his way either."

"I'm not trying to," I mumbled.

"You are," he did smile this time and turned to face me. "And I love you even more for trying to hold on to something for once in your life but you're going about it all wrong."

"I don't want him in my life," I started again.

"You'll realize it soon," he put his hands on my shoulders and I felt like I was five again and was my big, giant dad, always there to chase away the monsters. "That's not why you're here."

He paused and one hand went to my chin. "You have to listen to me," he said. "If you want this life of yours, you have to find the Fountain," he eyes slipped past me for a split second, or a year for all I knew, time was irrelevant here, to the waterfall. "You are almost out of time," he whispered and kissed my forehead. He looked at my face, taking in my eyes and the wrinkles I was slowly developing, the tears falling down my cheeks, before everything faded away.

I bolted up in my bed shaking all over at the way he was looking at me, like it was the last time he would see me again. I could still smell him, fish and cheap cologne, all around me. My hands shook and everything around me was too dark. Even if I was hallucinating my father, I didn't like being told I was going to die soon.

I stumbled out of the bed, still half hammered from the booze, but mostly shaken to my very core by my dream. The clock on the wall read twelve sixteen. The crew was asleep already and I didn't want to bother Joey. I slipped down the stairs and tiptoed to Ellie's room. The door was open a crack revealing Connor snoring on his back on the bed, twisted in the sheets. I pushed the door open and slid in, closing it on the way. Murphy was lying on his side on the cot. I sat down in front of him, the springs creaking a little under my weight. He was up in a flash and I felt the pressure of a knife to my throat before he realized who I was. He looked at me in the moonlight, taking in the wetness on my face.

He didn't say anything but wiped at my cheeks with his thumbs before he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down close to him, his heart beating against my back. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"I know," he returned and kissed the side of my face.

The next time I woke up, the tiny alarm clock on the nightstand read a little after three in the morning. I was alone in the cot and the bed was empty as well. I knew I shouldn't have expected Murphy to stay. He was still pissed that I was never going to change. He had a right to be mad. I sighed and stood up. The crew was still asleep as I made my way to the stairs. There was no way I was going to fall back asleep but at least I wouldn't be caught coming out of the Saints room.

The deck was empty, the moonlight shone across the still water. The navigation room was even dark. I went to the edge and leaned against the railing looking at the track of white the moon was making across the water. The book would work perfectly on a night like this. Except it wouldn't open. Unless I was going to the Fountain of Youth.

I sighed and said, "the one time you two can't sneak up on me." Connor and Murphy were standing behind me. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd gone."

"Please don't make this any harder Jack," Connor whispered.

"I know," I said and looked back at them. Both had guns in their hands. "You know, I always thought I'd drown or blow myself up," I laughed. "Didn't see this one coming."

"I'm sorry," Murphy whispered like I had not more than three hours ago.

"It's okay," I said and kissed his cheek. "The row boat drops real easy into the water and the coast of North Carolina is about three hours that way," I pointed to the East. "Just me though," I warned them like it meant something. I should have listened to my father, oh say three months ago.

I got down on my knees and closed my eyes waiting for the end. At least it would be quick. There was hesitation behind me but I heard the guns click into their loaded positions and then place a few inches from the back of my head. I could feel the cold of the metal. Then I heard the best sound of my life, speed boats. Spot lights hit the ship from all sides and I did briefly panic about the FBI finding the Saints.

"Drop your weapons boys," my heart dropped hearing that Southern accent, my other hallucination. I opened my eyes to find Sir William boarding the ship with at least a dozen armed men behind them. 'We're only here for her," he pointed to me. He was smoking a cigar, the smoke billowed out of his mouth as he talked.

Connor and Murphy hesitated. "It's okay," I told them with a smile. "I'll be fine." They listened to me and dropped their guns to the wood deck.

"You are a hard woman to track down Jack," Sir William said coming up behind me. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me up to standing. "I should have taken you months ago," he said and dragged me over the side of my ship again. I think I would have rather taken my chances with the Saints.


	20. At Least I'm Not Upside Down

Chapter 20- At Least I'm Not Upside Down

I didn't know how long I'd been out. It could have been a mere minutes or days. Either way, I woke up in a dark room with a thumping headache. No, that was an underestimate. It felt like every cell in my brain had burst into flames. I didn't move, just slowly opened my eyes. Pitch black cell, no windows, no light, no escape. I moved my hand and ran it over the side of my head to a swollen gash. It was numb but I didn't expect that to last very long. I turned my attention back to the room. Moving didn't seem like such a hot idea, but I ran my hand along the wood floor. I was on a ship, judging by the gentle rocking, a ship that wasn't moving very fast.

I closed my eyes again and tried to remember what had happened to end with my lying in a dark room. I remembered the Saints were going to kill me and the look on Murphy's face. Then I was saved, sort of. Kidnapped more like. Sir William. My brain hurt but I started to remember more. I was dragged off my boat and into a smaller speed boat. We flew about ten minutes away to a yacht.

"Got yourself some new digs I see," I had told Sir William with a smile. I was the reason his last yacht had been blown apart. Granted that was only because he tried to force me into giving him my book. I'd had a feeling that was how this little adventure was going to go.

Sir William had sneered and, without letting the cigar fall from his lips, he'd removed his hat. He handed it slowly to a servant, I couldn't remember what the man looked like, and then backhanded me so hard I thought my molars were going to fly out. "You have destroyed too much of my property," he said in that long, southern drawl of his, emphasizing every syllable.

My mind had gone a million different ways, playing out all the ideas I had about escape but it was over shadowed by his whacking me in the face again. Two of his thugs picked me up by my shoulders so I was forced to look at him again. "You stole my locket, then burned my house down, ruined my business, then blew up my ships."

"You kidnapped my friend," I said spitting blood out onto his nice, polished, white deck. It splattered in droplets. "And tried to kill me."

He leaned down so that we were face to face, the cigar finally came out of his mouth but the smoke still hung between us. "Where's the book Jack?"

"What book?" I had tried to play dumb but it hadn't quite worked.

His hand flew out and connected with the side of my head opening up a pretty good sized gash. "I will turn this boat around and head straight for your crew," he warned. "I will sink that wretched ship and all of your men and this time, there won't be anyone around to save them."

My mind had flashed back to the Sunset Ambrosia. My crew would either still be sleeping or just being woken up by the Saints with the message that her captain had been kidnapped again. They wouldn't stand a chance. "The book's not on my ship," I'd said softly and tried to keep my head up. "Get me away from the ship and I'll tell you."

Next came the repeated blows to the head and led to my unconscious state. Sir William, as smart as he was, always fell for the innocent and defeated girl routine. He got far enough away from the ship to give them a good run. By the time he realized I wouldn't tell him where the book was, my ship was long gone. He'd been slightly angry and that's when my mind went all fuzzy and the next thing I remembered was waking up in the tiny room.

I stretched my legs, with painful results mind you, realizing they hit another wall. If I stretched out completely, hands over head with my tiptoes out, the room was as wide as me. A little over six feet. I sat up, waiting for the dizziness in my head to pass. My mouth tasted like blood, but I had all my teeth. Nothing felt broke, except maybe a rip or two. At least my crew was safe. I didn't really care if the Saints had told the crew I had been kidnapped, as long as everyone was away from Sir William.

The door opened and blinding light flooded in. I shielded my eyes with my arm, waiting for the light to stop making my head hurt. "Oh good, you're awake finally."

"How long have I been out?" I asked. My eyes started to adjust so I could take Sir William in. He was wearing another Hawaiian shirt with big blue and pink flowers covering the whole thing. It was almost as bright as the light.

"About a day," Sir William admitted. He bent down, his knees cracked along the way, until he was face to face with me again. "Enough time for your boat to disappear."

"Ship," I corrected.

He smiled and I cringed a little. It was the smile that said he was hiding his frustration but it was close to boiling over. "You humiliated me again."

"You just keep making it so easy," I said. My mouth had gotten ahead of my brain. Again.

His hand reached out faster than I could have imagined, that and the concussion I was beginning to suspect, and slapped me across the cheek. "I had such hope for you when we first met Jack," he paused and ran his hand over my bruised cheek. I really tried not to flinch but he mistook my disgust for fear.

"I won't tell you where the book is," I said gritting my teeth together until he moved his hand.

"Well, that's where we have our problem," he leaned back a bit. I looked down at my arms in the light from the open door. It led out into a hallway but I could smell fresh air beyond that. My arms were covered in dried blood in long streaks. I think I liked the darkness better. "I want that book, but I'm content enough to let you rot here in this cell," he motioned around him. "There is no escape this time Jack. You either tell me where it is or you will die and I will sink your boat with your crew aboard." He stood up and seemed to take in my appearance, all the blood stains and bruises I was sure to have. "I'll let you think on that for a while." He walked out and slammed the door behind him.

"Ship!" I called after him. Maybe I didn't like the dark better.

The next time the door opened, I had lost all sense of time. I didn't know what day it was let alone what time is could be. I knew my belly had stopped rumbling in hunger and instead was replaced by pangs that came and went. "Sir William would like to speak with you," someone said while standing in the open doorway. My eyes adjusted slowly from a fuzz into a sharper image. He was average height with a thick beard and tattoos covering both arms. There was another man standing behind him but I couldn't make him out.

"Great," I muttered as the man hoisted me up roughly. He pulled me out the door and into the hallway. I could see deep blue skies and nighttime behind us but I was being dragged away and further into the boat.

"Don't bother memorizing the ship," the man told me. "This is all you'll see of it."

"Wasn't trying," I rolled my eyes at him and caught a glimpse of my appearance in a mirror. My hair was bigger than normal, clumping around my shoulders in a greasy, bloody mess. The left side of my face was puffy and black and blue while both eyes were blacked. Could have been worse I suppose. I could have been missing teeth.

"You don't remember me do you?" The man asked as we stopped in front of another door at the end of the hallway. "You tried to blow me up."

Crap. I had a way of running into really, really pissed off people. "I wasn't trying to blow you up in particular," I told him trying to smile a little.

"I'm going to enjoy torturing you," he grinned. I believed that. He seemed like the type that would pull out all your insides with you still alive, just to watch the look on your face.

The man opened the door and shoved me roughly inside. Sir William was sitting at a large table covered in food. Five armed bodyguards surrounded the room, hands on their weapons. "Ah Jack, please join me," Sir William gave me a bright smile and motioned to the chair at the end of the table.

I reluctantly made my way over. Being kept in the tiny, dark room had messed with my coordination. Not to mention the numerous beatings I'd taken this far. I sat down gingerly and looked at the table. There was fried chicken, steaks, mashed potatoes, green beans, even an apple pie sitting out, just out of my reach. I started to pull one of the plates towards myself, a fresh pang of hunger ripping through me, but a hand reached out and grabbed mine. One of the guards looked down at me until I pulled my hand away.

"Have you given my words any thought?" Sir William asked and bit into a piece of chicken, tearing at its skin.

"Kind of hard to think in the dark," I mumbled and looked back at the food again.

"Pity," Sir William wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Oh are you hungry?"

"Maybe," I said figuring he could probably see my mouth watering anyways.

"Tell me where the book is and you can have whatever food you want," he motioned out in front of him.

"I'd rather starve," I spat and folded my arms across my chest.

"Fine," Sir William smiled at me. "This is your last chance.

"I don't believe you," I told him. "You won't let me live even if I tell you where the book is."

"You're right," he said after a few minutes. "You've insulted me too many times to skate on by. I want to be the one to kill the great Jack D'Ambrosio. I want you to suffer first though." I'd met some pretty bad people in my lifetime, but he was the only way that truly made my blood turn cold. I wished I'd listened to my dad. Or even Joey for that matter.

"Take her out," Sir William waved to the guards and my bearded friend returned, pulling me out of my chair.

I was taken down one more level to a room with one bare light bulb overhead and a smell that rang of dried blood. Sir William followed not too long after watching the man break the fingers on my left hand. I kind of blacked out for a while, but I woke up again back in my tiny, dark cell thankful to be alone.

Another infinite amount of time passed before the door opened again. My hand throbbed constantly but at least that distracted me from being so hungry. After a while, it seemed like all I did was sleep. I was sleeping when Sir William opened the door and looked in on me. "Pity Jack," he said waking me up. I was too weak and hurt to move, I just opened my eyes to look at him even thought that took quite a bit of effort. "We could have made a wonderful team. Oh well," he said suddenly happier.

"We didn't find your ship in case you're wondering," he said. "But I will," he moved backwards and another man came in. "Grab her."

I was hoisted off the floor and drug along behind the man like a ragdoll until I was standing out in the moonlight. Standing was just a fancy way of saying being held up by someone else because my legs couldn't hold me up. "You have humiliated me for the last time," Sir William bellowed. He nodded his head to another man who rushed over dragging a chain behind him. I didn't like the looks of that.

"You should have just forgotten all about that locket," Sir William told me as the chain was anchored around my feet. I got a look beyond that to see chain attached to a cinderblock. Yup, not good.

Sir William motioned for the other man to let go of me and his own arms wrapped around me. "We could have been so good," he said and kissed my forehead before he swept me up and dumped me into the cold water.

You know, out of all the close calls I'd had in my life time, drowning seemed like a fitting end. I had escaped death far too many times in the past. I was sort of proud drowning would be my downfall. It was more honorable than drinking myself to death or being shot by some drug dealer. I closed my eyes and felt the last bits of air filter out my lungs. Murphy's face ran through my mind and I could feel his hands on my waist, his laughing voice in my ear. His hands moved from my waist down to my legs and then my knees until they were at my feet jerking at the chain. Then my feet were free.

I didn't think this would be death. I'd always figured I wouldn't feel pain but my body hurt everywhere, my lungs ached, and the cold water was starting to sting at my skin. Murphy's hands returned at my hips and suddenly I was being thrust upwards until I hit the surface. "Breath, Jack," he nearly yelled at me.

It was like something snapped on in my body and I took the biggest gasp I'd ever managed. My eyes flew open to see Murphy in front of me, holding me afloat. One soggy hand came up out of the water and went to the side of my face. "What are you trying to do? Scare me to death?" He teased.

"Am I dead?" I sputtered, my voice was raw and even that one little sentence hurt.

"No love," his arms went around me again pulling me against his chest. "You're safe now." I drifted back to sleep listening to the sound of his beating heart, a sound that didn't falter even when we were pulled out of the water and back onto the Sunset.


	21. I Feel Half Dead

Chapter 21- I Feel Half Dead

I remember voice, lots of voices. They kept pulling me away from the fountain until I really tried to pay attention. Granted, every time I tried to listen to the voices, my body hurt to the point where I faded back out. I began to think of this as limbo. Faith was never something very important to me, what with all the stealing and pillaging, but I knew enough to know this couldn't be eternity. If there was a hell, mine would be a lot worse than listening to voices.

After a while, focusing became a little easier. My ribs and left hand hurt the worst when I tried. Plus I started to recognize the voices. Murphy talked a lot. Big difference from the man who didn't say more than five words to me when we first met. I found he was easier to concentrate on. "We need to take her to a hospital," he was saying.

"No," Joey said softly. He didn't say it with much authority, just like he was deep in thought. "We couldn't explain this."

"Look at her hand," Murphy tried to keep calm but he was losing that battle. "And you've seen the rest of her. She's been unconscious for a week now," his voice rose so he stopped. There was some rustling around and then he said, "Marko, get her bag. I'll walk her into the fucking emergency room if I have to."

There was more rustling before Joey spoke. "You getting yourself arrested won't help her," he hissed. "Look, she's not bleeding anymore, there's no sign of fever, and we've set her fingers. That's all they would do at a hospital."

"That's bullshit!" Murphy yelled. There was silence for a moment. "What the hell do we do about her then?" He asked, quieter this time.

"We wait," Joey said with a sigh. I felt a hand grasp my non-injured one. It was rough but soft, Murphy. "It's Jack, she'll pull through, she always does."

I floated out for a while. I wasn't sure how long but I found myself standing in front of the waterfall again. The stars still blazed above my head but something was missing this time. I looked around waiting for my father to appear but he didn't. I sat down on one of the rocks and dipped my feet into the water. It had grown colder. I wanted to see my dad. He'd tell me if I was dead or not.

He never came though. I sat by that waterfall for who knows how long, getting bits and pieces of conversations. Murphy kept telling me I was alright but I wondered about that. I wanted to go to him, but that meant the pain would come back. Finally, the waterfall started to fade and my reality became clearer. I wasn't dead, I decided. No, I had to wake up from my limbo world, if for nothing more than to get back at Sir William.

By the time I started to come around, I realized I was right in the middle of another conversation. Murphy sat on one side of me while Connor was on the other side. "Did Joey tell you about the guy who did this?" Murphy asked. His hand was still grasping mine. My lifeline. I wanted to fall backwards again. My ribs hurt, my hand hurt, my head hurt, I could feel the gash on my head, the one on my good arm, the bruises around my feet from the chain.

"Said something about him," Connor said softly. "Said he's had his hand in a lot of weapons deals," Connor paused. "Also said Jack stole from him and this is his revenge."

"Tell you what she stole?" Murphy asked.

"Nope, just something of 'great value,'" Connor imitated Joey with such accuracy I wanted to laugh. Granted that would require me moving and that sounded about as good as going to the dentist.

"He shouldn't get away with this," Murphy growled. I could feel his anger growing. I knew where this would lead.

"He's a bad man," Connor agreed.

I tried to open my eyes but they just wouldn't go. "I bet Romeo could find someone that fucker has pissed off enough to give him up," Murphy wasn't letting go of my hand, the only thing I thought I could move at this point without excruciating pain. I had to do something to keep them on the ship.

"I know where Jack hid our guns," Connor this time. And he didn't know where I hid his guns. Mine, on the other hand, were in the trunk about ten feet away from him. "And I'm sure the crew wouldn't be adverse to us shooting him,"

I was trying to scream that I'd be adverse to it, but my throat wasn't working. I could feel my vocal chords trying, but no noise was coming out. "He couldn't have gotten far," Murphy's brain was turning. I tried to make my eyes open again but they still wouldn't cooperate.

"I'll go talk to Romeo," Connor was standing. I missed the warmth from that side. I tried to speak again and this time I felt gurgling. Closer I suppose. "Get him on the phone, talk to the crew a little."

"Good," Murphy was eerily calm. "We need to get this motherfucker."

I found my voice, harsh as it was. "You can't kill him, I keep trying," I mumbled. My throat was scratchy and it hurt, but it was something.

"Holy shit, Jack," Murphy leaned over me. Connor was trying, but Murphy was hogging all the space.

"Am I dead?" I asked. I only felt about half dead but figured I should ask anyways.

"No," Murphy laughed. "Open your eyes."

My eyelids felt like they weighed about a million pounds but eventually they did manage to pop open, only a little though. Everything was swollen and blurry but I could make out two heads, one dark and one fairer, leaning over me, watching my movements. "Well, look at that," Connor said in his joking voice. "Sleeping Beauty's awake!"

"Shut the fuck up," I groaned and shut my eyes again.

"And still swearing like a sailor," Connor laughed. I moved the good hand up and flipped him off just because that caused less pain than talking. "I'll go tell Joey she's awake," Connor was still laughing but he excused himself and I was alone with Murphy again.

"I thought you were gone," Murphy admitted. I forced my eyes open again to get a good look at him. His eyes seemed watery and there were bags underneath like he hadn't sleep in weeks.

"I thought I was too," I told him raising my hand up again clumsily to rest on the back of his head. "How long have I been out?"

"About a week," he said.

"Great." I stopped and thought time. "And I was gone for what, two weeks? At least Hong will have given up searching for me."

He pulled back but I grabbed his hand. "I don't want you to be mad about my life," I said. "I just want you to stay right now."

"You need your sleep," he kissed my forehead. I didn't even want to think about what I looked like. All bloody gory and covered in bruises.

"I've slept too much," I groaned. "Please stay," I hated begging but there was something inside that needed him to be there. "Please, I don't want to be alone if he comes back," I nearly whispered.

He was quiet so I closed my eyes again. I didn't want to see anymore rejection, especially from him. I'd been let down so much in my life and I knew he'd tried to kill me technically twice now, but he was the only person I felt safe with despite every rational part of me saying I needed to hightail it. My stupid dad was right about my feelings for him. He didn't leave, instead he lifted the covers up and gingerly moved into the bed. His arms went around me and carefully moved me until I was nearly lying on top of him. I fell asleep and this time there were no dreams, just a deep, restful sleep.

"This is stupid," Murphy complained a few days later. He was hauling water in buckets up to my cabin and pouring it into the tub in the corner.

"Shut up, it only takes like two more buckets," I grinned and watched him head back down below where Joey was faithfully heating up water on the stove. I loved my bathtub. It was a twenty dollar purchase from an estate sale but unfortunately, the restrooms on the ship weren't exactly equipped for a tub. So the thing got put in my cabin. With no running water.

Joey had filled me on in what I had missed while being kidnapped and then comatose, emphasizing that Murphy had been the one to save me. After Sir William had grabbed me, the Saints had woken Joey who had immediately taken to the radar. They found Sir William's yacht with little to no trouble. Problem was, it was also surrounded by about ten other, smaller boats with many well-armed men watching out for the Sunset to come after their captain. While I knew virtually nothing about technology, I did know that my ship could jam any other technological advancement making her virtually un-seeable. I didn't know that Sir William's boats were equipped with the same devices and had managed to escape. It was the Saints who had eventually found where Sir William's mini armada was floating in a cove near Texas. It was also Murphy who had jumped in the water and saved my ass from drowning. Joey now saw them as heroes. I didn't tell him how the Saints knew I'd been kidnapped. I was just grateful Murphy had saved me rather than letting me drown for my sins.

"Last two," Murphy warned grunting as he pushed the door to my cabin open again. "How," he started and dumped one of the buckets into the tub, "did I let you talk me into this?"

"Because it would make me feel better?" I asked sweetly. He shook his head and poured the other one in. "How about because you can't stand how bad I stink?"

"That's more like it," he laughed and turned back to me. I hadn't left my bed hardly at all since being brought back. Bathroom trips involved about twenty minutes of painful maneuvering and Murphy carrying me down below. I still had dried blood everywhere from bleeding after being fished out of the water. My pajamas reeked of that iron smell not to mention sweat from nearly a week and a half of being bedridden. My hair was greasy and matted. Still, it had taken me one whole day to convince Murphy to help me take a bath.

He turned to me, proud of his accomplishment before realizing the next hurdle. "Now, how do we get you in there?" He pointed back to the tub.

"Very carefully," I said not looking forward to the next part. He helped me undress and then into the tub, another twenty minute process. I'd expected him to leave, but he sat down on a stool behind me. He even took the shampoo and helped wash my hair. I'd forgotten that it really was nearly down to my waist. I hadn't detangled the mess in a while.

"What did you steal from that man?" Murphy asked after a while. He was carefully combing my hair like I would break from one tug on the strands.

"A locket," I admitted. He was quiet and I could feel his frown on the back of my head. "A very important locket so he kidnapped my best friend as revenge so I blew up his house," I said. There was still silence behind me. "He blames me for his business being ruined."

"He sells guns," Murphy said. "Have you ever worked for him?"

"I don't run guns or drugs," I repeated. "And no. He just happened to have something I needed."

"The locket."

"Yup," I felt his hands stop combing. He wanted to know more about the lockets. I thought about telling him since I had the head injury and all, he'd probably think I was concussed still. I stopped myself though.

"Someone needs to stop him," Murphy changed the subject for me. "He can't just kidnap people. How many deaths is he responsible for?" And there was that anger in his voice again.

"He's too dangerous. Leave him be, he'll get what he deserves." I was confident in that. I had started something by burning down his house. People were becoming less and less trusting with him and the FBI was slowly but surely building a case against him since my fire brought him to their attention. He was losing control of his world and his greed and insanity would only carry him so far.

"Look at what he did to you," Murphy pointed out.

"Don't make this about me," I said. "Before that, you were going to shoot me in the back of the head."

"Maybe we were brought to you to get to him," he thought out loud.

"Gee, thanks for that," I muttered and tried to sit up a little. Pain shot up through my ribs and my sore lungs. Apparently, being half drowned messed with your air intake.

"Sit back before you hurt yourself," his voice was soft. He put his arms around my shoulders and pulled me back against the tub and rested my head on a towel. He kissed my cheek and then rested his chin on the towel. "I'd be happy if that's why I found you."

"I wouldn't," I sighed. "I don't want to be a stepping stone for you to get to something bigger."

"You still think I just want to fuck you," he said as more a statement than anything else. "That's not it." He said it so simply I almost forgot he had tried to kill me. Twice.

"But I don't want to be a part of you mission from god thing," I closed my eyes and let him keep his arms around me. "It's not healthy for someone to hate something so much."

"You didn't see what you looked like when I pulled you out of the water," he told me. "It doesn't matter to me who he is. It matters to me what he did to you."

I felt better after cleaning up. The water was a rust color by the time it had went cold and Murphy forced me out. We didn't talk much after that. I didn't want him to go after Sir William and he didn't want to listen to me. He helped me back to bed, even lying with me underneath the thick covers until I fell asleep again. When I woke up, I was alone. I could hear voices rushing about outside my cabin. I panicked thinking Sir William had found out the ship, or worse yet, that I was still alive. Then I heard Joey call everyone to silence and Connor start to talk. Loudly, like he was prone to do.

"We're not asking any of you to go with us," he started. I slowly eased myself up into sitting position to hear him better. "But you all saw what that warlord did to your captain."

There was another round of mumbling and Connor calling them back to order. I stood up, unsteady of my own legs. It took me a minute to get my wits about. "He broke her fingers, beat her senseless Christ knows how many times, cracked her skull open, and then dropped her into the water to drown," Connor continued. I frowned and ran my good hand over the gash on the side of my head. It didn't feel cracked. I sighed and started to move forward, slowly, my hand holding my ribs tight to keep from doubling over in pain.

"She's one of many," Connor said. "If it doesn't rile you, make your blood boil thinking of what he did to your captain, your sister, think of what he's done to so many others. She wasn't the first and she won't be the last."

I got to the door and slid it open a crack. Connor was standing on top one of the air vent platforms with most of the crew around him, hanging on his words. Murphy stood to the side, looking like he was ready to go right then. "He sells weapons to gangs, drug dealers, murderers. He could take away any one of you or your family," Connor pointed out. "He is a cancer, spreading across your country, threatening the world." That was a bit dramatic, but I gave him credit for the performance. The crew was entranced. I slid out the door and leaned against it.

"We're not asking any of you to go along with us. If you chose to go, it will be your decision," Connor said looking from face to face. "But could you live with yourself knowing you could have stopped him?" Of all the times for my crew to grow a backbone and actually be honorable men, they chose then. A round of cheering went up.

I'd had enough. I pushed off with all my strength and pushed through them. "How is that going to help anything?" I yelled at them. "Blood for blood?" I posed. "You won't be any better than him."

"They will be helping us," Connor looked down at me from his perch. Murphy tried to steady me but I waved him off. I had to look like the captain.

"By getting themselves killed?" I asked returning his glance. I turned back to the crew and said, "Sir William is a smart, but crazy man. He has dozens of men willing to die for him in his employ. You won't win against him and I won't lose any more of my crew to him."

"What are you saying Jack?" Joey asked me.

"I'm saying I forbid any of you from going after Sir William," I said as tough as I could manage. "This is still my ship and that is a direct order." I turned again and tried to walk off as quick as I could but that wasn't an option. It was a long, slow walk but at least no one laughed. To my face that is.


	22. Mutiny Aboard the Sunset

Chapter 22- Mutiny Aboard the Sunset

I dreamed of the Fountain of Youth again. I was back at the waterfall looking at the night sky and the floating branches waiting for my father to appear. I wanted to tell him I was still alive and that I didn't need eternity but he never showed up. I put my feet in the water and wondered why I was still dreaming of the waterfall. I hadn't died and Sir William still thought I was dead. We would be left in peace for a while. Broke, but in peace. I didn't need the Fountain of Youth. Either way, I was still dreaming of it.

When I finally did wake up again after Connor's speech, it was nearly three in the morning. I had slept for another sixteen hours straight. I was still alone. It was the first night since I'd been back among the waking that Murphy hadn't slept in the same bed with me. I tried to fall back asleep but I just couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Sir William and that evil smile of his. My body wouldn't get comfortable either. All my cuts itched and my ribs in fingers still ached.

I sat up in bed and, having given up on sleep, looked around for something to do. Joey had hid my alcohol better this time so that wasn't an option. The book stared at me. I could have sworn I'd put that thing back on my bookcase but there it was, sitting on my desk, daring me to use it. "I'm not doing it," I said. A breeze fluttered through and the cover caught and opened. I knew what page it was without having to look. "Screw this," I muttered and painfully stood up. I still felt like I needed more sleep, but I knew it wouldn't come. I figured maybe a twirl around the ship would help sleep along.

The deck was empty. The lights in the navigation room were dark but I knew someone was in there watching the radar, waiting. We were running on silent, minimal engine noise and no nighttime lighting unless completely necessary, just in case Sir William realized I wasn't nearly as dead as he'd hoped. I could see out across the open water. Standing out on the deck, in the clear night air, vulnerable, didn't seem to appealing so I made for the stairs. The crew was sleeping soundly in their bunks. I slid past them and into the galley flipping on a light as I went. Joey couldn't have hidden the booze too well.

After opening every cabinet, I didn't find anything and my body really hurt at that point. I gave up. I was too tired to make it back upstairs and beside, I couldn't sleep up there. I turned the lights out and went over to Ellie's room. Connor was asleep in the bed, lying on his back, twisted in the sheets as always. I slid onto the cot with Murphy. He didn't reach for his knife but I figured it took me so long to lay down, he had to know it was me.

"What are you doing down here?" He whispered.

"Couldn't sleep on my own," I returned with a yawn. "Don't tell the crew I told you that."

"What? That the high and might Captain Jack is afraid to be alone?" He teased.

"Fuck you," I laughed. I was quiet for a bit, listening to the sound of his breathing before I admitted, "I keep seeing his face every time I try and close my eyes."

"He can't get away with this," Murphy said and his arms tightened around me. "We'll take care of it."

"No," I didn't bother whispering on that one. "Better solution would be if you just slept upstairs with me every night." I wasn't sure where that came from. There was no way I wanted him in my life permanently. I mean, I was grateful and all for him saving me, but I didn't need that kind of commitment in my life, especially given our opposing lines of work. At least, I didn't think I needed that.

"And you want to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?" He asked.

"Better than watching my friends and family die trying to kill him."

"Jesus Christ, would you two shut the fuck up?" Connor yelled.

"Sure thing brother," Murphy laughed.

"Sorry Connor," I grinned and finally drifted off to sleep.

I expected to dream of the fountain again so it wasn't a shock when I found myself standing in front of it again. My father was still nowhere in sight. Instead there was another man standing on the black rocks looking at me. "About time you got here," he said. He was taller than my dad, with long, dark hair and a thick beard. A black coat was neatly thrown over a rock and he wore sunglasses despite the night sky above.

"Who the fuck are you?" I asked him.

"A friend," he smiled at me and motioned for me to come closer. I stood exactly where I was. Sure, I was dreaming but why take any chances? "Okay Jack, I understand you don't trust many people."

"You're going to have to tell me more than that," I said.

"That's why I'm here," he smiled again. "Have you found it yet?" He asked and motioned to the waterfall behind him.

"I don't need it," I said. "I didn't die."

"Your father said you were stubborn," he laughed. Great, now I was dreaming of two ghosts. Or figments of my imagination, not much better. "You don't have much time left."

"Good to know," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Just find it," he told me.

When I woke up, it was daylight again. Late morning sun judging from the light coming in my cabin windows. I was back in my own bed again, alone. I sat up and took a deep breath. My lungs were starting to hurt less and I felt stronger. I didn't think about my dream with the long haired man but instead chose to focus on Murphy and the fact that I was alone in my bed again. Maybe I was just being clingy. I was really bad with men after all. What I didn't understand was why he felt so strongly that he had to get revenge on Sir William for what he done to me. For starters, Murphy had tried to kill me himself. Twice. But even more confusing, I kept waking up alone. Why go after the guy who'd left me for dead when Murphy couldn't be around me for more than a few hours at a time?

I shook my head and stood, steadying myself carefully. My bare feet were almost covered entirely by my pajama pants as I slowly padded along. I had to talk to Murphy, I had to understand him better. The crew was outside rushing about. I paused wondering what they were up to. They were preparing the ship for docking. I didn't remember telling anyone to make port. None of them would meet my eyes. In fact, they ignored me all together. I narrowed my eyes at them before heading straight down to Ellie's cabin. "What's the crew doing?" I asked standing in the doorway. All three Saints stood inside, cleaning their guns. Sure, Joey could tell them where I hid their guns but heaven forbid he tell me where my vodka was. "Oh, never mind."

"Jack, you're awake," Murphy greeted me with a smile. I looked down at the guns before looking back at him. "Romeo found where Sir William's staying right now."

"I thought I told the crew they were not to go after Sir William," I said frowning as deeply as I could manage. "I can't control you three, but them, I can."

"They are free to do what they chose," Connor said slamming one of his guns back together and loading it with a full clip.

"Not on my ship," I said with ice in my voice. "I can't stop any of you so if you plan on going after him, do it now because we're heading back out into open water." I turned on my heels as best I could.

"Running away isn't going to solve anything," Connor yelled after me.

I ignored him and made my way back up onto the deck, the three Saints close behind, Murphy making sure I didn't fall. "Pull the anchor back up, lower the sails, and fire up the main engines," I barked out at the crew and went to the helm. The crew stopped what they were doing and looked at me. The Saints stood behind me. I probably would have looked more menacing had I not been wearing penguin printed pajama pants and an old Whitesnake tee shirt.

No one made a move to follow my orders. "Fine," I grumbled. "I'll do it myself." I said leaning over to try and hit the button to pull the anchor up off the harbor floor.

"Jack, stop," Murphy pleaded with me silently. "Just let us work."

"No," I yelled back at him and then turned to the crew. "I won't lose any more people," I said before yelling, "this is still my ship and I am the god damned captain!"

Everyone still stood motionless. "They agree with us Jack," Connor said. I looked from face to face seeing that they had all made their choice. Even Joey was armed and ready to go.

"Okay," I muttered and started towards my cabin slamming the door behind me. I went to my dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a plain, black tee shirt.

The door behind me opened and Murphy walked in. "What are you doing?" He asked watching me struggle to raise my arms high enough to get my shirt off and put the new one on.

"I'm not watching anyone else die," I muttered to myself. My arms were stuck in the shirt. Murphy came over and easily pulled it over my head. He helped me into the new one and then got me into the jeans. "I'm going to take care of this myself." I said going over to the gun cabinet.

"Jack, you can barely move," Murphy reasoned. "And you don't know where he is."

"Romeo will tell me," I said determined. I loaded up two semi-automatics and strapped them to legs before slinging my rifle over my shoulder. "This is my battle to fight and mine alone."

Murphy grabbed my shoulders and forced me to stand still. "Please, I don't want to see him hurt you again."

"Right back at ya," I said and picked up my revolver. I pushed past him and went back out on to the deck coming to a painful stop right in front of Romeo. "Where is Sir William?"

"We'll take care of him, don't you worry," he said with a reassuring smile.

"He is mine to handle," I gritted my teeth. "Where is he hiding?" Romeo looked past me to Murphy. I was frustrated so I pulled the revolver out and pointed it at his forehead. "Where is he?"

"Jack, be rational," Joey warned.

"I'm going to ask you again," I said and cocked the hammer back. "Where is Sir William?"

Romeo quivered a little and said in a shaking voice, "big yellow house on Harbor Street."

"Fucking hell Romeo," Murphy cursed. He took advantage of my injured slowness and pulled the revolver out of my hand. He easily picked me up throwing me over his shoulder. My ribs screamed out in pain but he moved too quickly for me to complain. We were back in my cabin and he threw me back in the bed, putting all his weight on holding me down. He tossed the revolver to the side. "I'm sorry," he said and leaned down and kissed me roughly on the lips. "Stay here." He stood up and started to walk out. I tried to follow but everything hurt all over again. He made it to the double doors long before I could and Joey slammed them shut behind him. Padlocks clicked on the outside and boards went up over the stained glass windows in a hurry.

"Damn it Joey, let me out!" I yelled at him.

"Sorry," he called back and the hammering stopped. The footsteps outside stopped not too long after that.

I tried to pry the door open, but it didn't work and after about an hour, I gave up. I sat down at my desk and stared at the book. An hour slid by followed by another one and there was only silence outside my door. They should have been back already. I stood up and went over to the windows. There was probably a thirty foot drop into the water from the open window. I was to injured to jump. I came back to the bed and tied my sheets together as well as the comforter and just about anything else I could find until I had a rope lying in front of me. Rapunzel had always been my favorite fairy tale after all.

With the rope firmly anchored to my desk and my guns sealed into a plastic bag, I began to repel down the side of my ship hoping harbor patrol didn't come along. That would be hard to explain. 'I swear officer, this really is my ship, I'm just trying to escape from it, not steal it.' I hit the water and stiffly started to swim to shore. Out of breath and in excruciating pain, I hit the sand. I wanted to lay there for a few days, curled up in a ball until my ribs stopped hurting, but my crew was in trouble. I stood again and started walking.

It didn't take long to find Sir William's newest house. It was big and bright yellow, facing the bright afternoon sun. It was also the only house on that block, away from prying neighbors and suspicious cops. I snuck up, crawling underneath a row of high bushes. Floodlights illuminated the yard. A high stone wall prevented any noise from escaping and carrying the nearly half-mile distance to the nearest neighbor. The ten guys from my crew who had gone along with this ridiculous plan were lined up against it, each battered and bloody. The Saints were tied and gagged lying on the grass. Armed men lined the rest of the yard with Sir William standing in the middle waved a pistol around.

"So," he said. "Which one of you should I shoot first?" Sir William laughed again and came to a stop in front of Marko. "I think this one," he said with a grin and fired one shot into Marko's chest. I nearly screamed but held back.

A man walked up to Sir William and whispered something in his ear, something that made him smile. "Ah," Sir William turned back to the bushes where I was hiding. "Seems we have ourselves a visitor. Captain Jack, why don't you come out?"

Murphy began to struggle against his bindings but I stayed put. "Okay, who should I shoot next then?" He turned back to the crew. He stopped in front of Joey. "Maybe the old man?" Sir William held the pistol up to Joey's head before he moved on. He leaned down in front of the Saints. "Or maybe one of your new friends." He pointed at Murphy and I'd had enough.

"Fine," I said pulling myself up and out of the dirt. Murphy started struggling again as I took a step forward. "You caught me."

Sir William smiled. "You know, I thought leaving you to die would be the worst thing I could hurt you with," he said and turned back to Murphy. "Guess I was wrong." He fired two quick shots at Murphy. My world slowed down for a second as I leaped forward. One shot at hit Murphy's shoulder while the other clearly landed in his stomach.

I didn't think about my reaction. I pulled my revolver out and shot Sir William right in the head. He fell easily, a stunned look on his face as a trickle of blood seeped out of his forehead. His men looked at me but must have decided I was far too insane to mess with. They dropped their guns. Maybe not as loyal as I'd thought before.

I dropped to my knees in front of Murphy not quite sure what to do. I pulled the tape off his mouth a got the ropes off his arms and feet while Joey did the same with Connor. "You're okay," I told Murphy watching his eyes fade in and out. Connor was screaming something beside me but I didn't hear. "Get Marko," I told Joey and grabbed another guy to get Murphy. I stood and looked back to Sir William's body hating him even more. I grabbed Connor and we hurried off into the oncoming night. I prayed to a god I'd ignored for most of my life, begging him not to take Murphy tonight.


	23. Something Weird This Way Comes

Chapter 23- Something Weird This Way Comes

Chaos broke out long before we made it back to the deserted ship. Frantic phone calls to the remaining crew members had been made and I really didn't have enough time to do a head count as we sailed out of the harbor. I just hoped we had everyone. The guys took Marko straight to the infirmary while Murphy was taken to my cabin. I focused on getting the ship out into open water before worrying about the events that had just taken place.

The sun blazed overhead but we were soon floating in calm waters away from everything else. I'd had my back against the wall before, with no idea what to do, but now there was definitely no plan. I turned the helm over to one of the crew members who hadn't been in the massacre. He looked dazed, glassy eyed at best but he kept the wheel steady. I flung the door to my cabin open and stepped into a make-shift emergency room.

Murphy lay unconscious on my bed that had been stripped of its usual sheets and replaced by itchy but sterile white. A couple of guys, including Joey rushed around. Joey was bleeding from a gash over his left eyebrow but it didn't seem to bother him much. He looked up at me and nodded. "We could use another hand here," he said and motioned to the bandages sitting on my desk.

We didn't speak. Murphy was pale from blood loss. His shoulder didn't look so bad. We'd fished the bullet out and stitched it up. The wound to his stomach was something else. "It doesn't look good Jack," Joey said softly and pulled a chair across from me. My hand was holding a bandage over Murphy's belly to stem some of the blood flowing.

"We can't close it up," he said and looked down at the fugitive in front of him. "Bullet did too much damage."

"We're not too from Mexico. I could get him a fake passport," I reasoned and kept my eyes on Murphy. I'd never wanted something more than I wanted him to wake up and smile and be perfectly fine.

"He won't make it," Joey reached his hand across and took my free hand in his. "I'm sorry Jack but there's nothing we can do. He's got three hours, maybe four tops."

"What about Marko?" I asked.

"He was gone before we got to the Ambrosia," he hadn't wanted to tell me that. I could feel that through his grip on my hand. We both knew I'd buried too many crew members. "I'm sorry Jack."

"Please leave," I said softly. My eyes stayed focused on Murphy and the slow movements of his chest.

Joey let go of my hand and stood. "I didn't know this would happen," he tried to say. It was pitiful and weak.

"I told you it would," I said. I wanted to be angry at him, scream until my voice gave in but it wasn't there. He had to have known I wasn't going to recover easily from this one. "Set a course for California. Tell the crew they're going home."

"Are you going to come steer?"

"No, I'm going to sit right here," I said and smoothed the blanket covering Murphy's lower half.

"And after that?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Tell the crew not to expect work for a while though." I knew that much. I was thinking lots of booze. And possibly Mexico.

"Okay," he gave a sigh. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't used to things effecting me. I wasn't supposed to feel emotions. I was supposed to be reckless and ruthless. He knew how to react to those. Greif and a broken heart were something new to him. "We were just trying to do right by you."

"I know," I looked up at him seeing how hurt he was by all of this. His eyes were red and cloudy and I wondered if it was for the loss of Marko, Murphy, what was left of my sanity, or all three at once.

He left and I was almost alone again. I took Murphy's hand in mine and let go of the bandage. He was still bleeding, but it had slowed. Joey was right about there being nothing more to do. I wished Ellie was there with her medical expertise or at least support. It wasn't fair that he was being taken away from me. Sure, we didn't always get along or have many conversations, but there was something there. I didn't like the thought of my life not including him.

I was pondering that thought when the door to my cabin opened again. Connor stepped in. He looked worse than Joey. "Can I come in?" He asked. His eyes looked past me to his twin brother and I remembered my loss would be nothing compared to his.

"Of course," I tried to smile and be brave for him but it came out as more of a choke.

"Joey told me," he nodded and sat down in the chair Joey had pulled across from me on the other side of the bed.

"I'm sorry,"

He didn't say anything for a moment. We both just watching Murphy's unconscious form and uneven breathing before Connor said, "you know, I always thought we'd die like this," he said and looked at me. His eyes looked dazed. "I just thought we'd go at the same time."

"I don't think he'd want that," I said hoping I was being even a little comforting.

"Suppose not," Connor said and was silent again. He pulled a cigarette out his pocket and lit it. "He really likes you."

"I'm not his type," I shook my head and gave a smile.

"How do you know?" Connor asked blowing smoke over his shoulder and away from Murphy.

"Because I'm not righteous," I mumbled and looked down at my hand holding his. "And I'm bad with dating and men, I don't have an ounce of femininity in me, and apparently I'm more insecure and awkward than I previously thought."

"He was going to make things right with you. Sir William was just one part of that," Connor said simply.

We were both quiet again. Connor finished his cigarette and stamped it out. I thought about offering him booze since I was sure Joey wouldn't hide it from me now but figured we both wanted to stay sober. At least until after. My dad floating through my mind again. The last time we'd met he had told me was that I was trying to keep something in my life. He'd said I still had to find the Fountain of Youth. I dropped Murphy's hand and looked over to my desk. The book was sitting underneath a piled of gauze. "Shit, why didn't I listen to him?" I scolded myself.

"What?" Connor asked.

"My dad," I muttered and stood. "He said I had to find it but I thought it was for me." I went to the loose floorboard and tipped it up with my foot. The two lockets were still in the hallowed out floor, gleaming like they had known all along I was a moron.

I pulled them out and held them up in the light. Connor was looking at me with mild interest in his eyes. There was still a major problem. I opened the heavy curtain and afternoon sunlight flooded the cabin. "I need moonlight though," I stood in the middle of the room tapping my feet nervously.

"What are you on about?" Connor asked, trying to interrupt my train of thought.

"I wonder," I mumbled and went to my cabinet. The cloth bag I was looking for was still in its place at the back. It was a present from a hoodoo priestess a few years back. She'd said I'd need it to save something of importance but I'd never thought twice about it. I lived on a ship for Pete's sake. I opened the black velvet and peered inside. The note with the instructions was still on top. I pulled it out and read over it quickly.

"What are you doing?" Connor asked looking at me with a weariness on his face that I had never seen before.

"Making a little moonlight," I told him and flung the doors to my cabin open. "Everyone stop!" I yelled. All the commotion immediately ceased. I turned back to the navigation room where Joey was sitting, watching the radar and said, "Joey cut the engines."

Everything slowed and then stopped. The ship was eerily silent in the bright sunshine. I sat down in the middle of the deck and pulled a piece of chalk out of the bag and drew a circle around myself. The next step was to cover the line with the thick, black powder that lined the bag. Connor was staring at me from the open door, Murphy laid beyond that, still unconscious. "Here goes nothing," I closed my eyes and thought of the moon. "Take me to the darkness," I whispered.

At first nothing happed. Then the ship started to rock despite the calm water. A breeze rustled through my hair fluttered the tinges of red from Murphy's blood past my face. I'd opened my eyes just in time to see the wind kick up and the whole ship spin once before sinking straight down. We should have gone into the water but instead, the wind whipped around from below the ship like we were falling through a massive hole. Everything stopped again and the wind died down. We were floating along again, but this time the moon was the only light.

The crew, myself, and Connor ran to the edge of the ship looking out across the water. Land was in the distance. "Where are we?" Someone asked.

"I'd imagine the Indian Ocean and that," I pointed to the lighthouse, "would be Australia." I went back to the circle I'd drawn and sat down just outside it. The book had no problem helping me this time. I started to put my hand down on the cover but it flipped open all on its own. Straight to the page for the Fountain of Youth. Connor stood behind me watching over my shoulder as I opened the lockets next. I skipped over the parts I'd read before. "The Fountain can only be found if those seeking it wish not for personal gain," I read out loud looking back once at Connor to make sure someone else was getting this too. I didn't really care if anyone knew how I found the things I did at this point.

"The Keeper of the Water will choose to reveal its location once she feels your intentions are pure. Head towards the Eagle's Nest on the lighter side of the Floridian Coast," I finished and sighed to myself only taking a few seconds to pause before I slid myself back into the circle.

"Do you know where we're going?" Connor asked.

"It's near Fort Myers, I know the landmark the book's talking about," I closed my eyes again but this time I focus on the bright sunlight and how hot the light felt on my skin. "Take me back to the light." The ship spun again and we ended up back where we'd started from. I stood quickly. The black powder was mostly gone now, what was left floating off in the slight breeze. The crew looked sick but I ignored it. "Fire up the engines, full power," I yelled out and went to the helm. I spun the wheel around and grabbed one of the guys closest to me. "Stand right here and hold the wheel in this exact position," I warned him figuring they were the reason we were in this mess.

I went back to my cabin and sat down next to Murphy. "I have a plan," I told him and kissed his cheek, the rough stubble scratched my lips.

"Do you think this'll work," Connor asked leaning against the door frame.

"It has to," I looked from him and back to Murphy. "You just need to hang on a little bit longer."

We made it to the rock formation in record time. There was an opening on the side near the rocky beach I'd never noticed before. I figured that meant I had passed whatever test I was supposed to pass in order to be able to see the entrance. I picked up my backpack and helped Connor get Murphy. We draped a blanket around his shoulders and each of us took one of his arms over our shoulders. Together we got him off the ship and up the short beach to the entrance to the cave. It glowed an odd pink but I didn't have time to think about that. Murphy's breathing was becoming more and more shallow. He was fading fast.

"Jack, I've been waiting for you," A woman in a long white robe stepped out in front of us.

I looked to Connor before we shuffled Murphy around so that I could step up to face her. She had long, flowing blonde hair, the kind of hair I wished I had instead of my tangled mess. Her face didn't contain one single wrinkled but she felt like she'd been alive forever. "Here," I handed her my backpack. "There's every gold coin I have with me from ever era of this planet."

"I don't want your money," she returned the backpack. "This is where you will make your choice. I do not accept payment."

"We need help," I said and motioned back to Murphy. She waved her arm out and the fountain appeared, like it had been there all along but had just needed a light.

"Take him there," she said. The waterfall looked exactly like it had in my dreams. The stars blazed overhead and trees grew out of thin air. I'd never noticed the steps off to one side leading down into the water.

"Will we be immortal?" I asked her.

She gave me a smile and said, "no, that is not the purpose of the Fountain of Life. It's name was changed just as the legend changed. It will only help those on their last breath by healing them."

"I have another man on my ship,"

She held up a hand to stop me. "I'm sorry but it can't help the dead."

I looked back to Murphy, whose head hung lifelessly off his shoulders and decided I didn't have any more time for chit-chat. Connor helped get him into the water. It was colder than I'd remember and Murphy gasped for breath. He was emerged up to his chest with Connor holding his legs and waist while I kept his head afloat.

"It's not working," I said. The water was tinged red around us from Murphy's stomach wound. I looked up at the woman pleading with my eyes.

"He needs a reason to live," she said nodding to me.

I looked back down at him and ran my hand over his cheek. "You have to come back," I said feeling my eyes well up. "Your brother needs you and Romeo. You make the world a better place." I looked back to her. "It's still not working!" I yelled at her. The tears spilled over my eyes lids.

"Something better Jack, this is your choice, your path," she nudged.

I shut my eyes for a second. My eyes closed and I leaned down into the water and kissed his cheek again. I let my lips trail along his jaw until I was next to his ear. "Please come back because I never got to tell you how much I love you." I pressed my face against his hair.

I was sure he was gone until I felt a hand on the back of my head. I leaned up and looked right into his eyes. He didn't say anything but pulled me down to kiss him. I breathed a sigh of relief as his eyes closed again but I could still feel his heart beating steadily. The wound on his stomach was gone completely. I looked back to the woman and said, "thank you."

"You know what needs to be done now," she smiled warmly.


	24. Westward Bound

a/n: So, this is finally the last chapter! Thanks to every one of you who has made it this far despite the numerous typos and grammatical errors. Also, thanks for all the wonderful reviews. Mixing the Saints with my favorite recreational character was a bit scary at first, so thanks for hanging in there! Still trying to work out a possible sequel, maybe with a girl for Connor this time!

Chapter 24- Westward Bound

I set a course for California. The crew needed a break. Hell, I needed a break. I'd called Marko's mother to report the bad news. My Spanish was horrible but she got the gist. The poor woman cried for an hour. I promised he would be buried properly. Everyone on board seemed happy enough to leave me be. I think they were all pretty much caught up on their own thoughts, between Marko's death and the weirdness that brought Murphy back.

Murphy had passed out again before we could even get him back on the ship. As far as I could tell, he was fine. The gunshot wounds were gone completely and he was breathing normally. We put him back in my cabin since I had the biggest bed and it was mostly quiet. Connor had sat beside him and I had decided to leave them alone for a bit. I wanted to steer the ship anyways.

I stood out on the deck for hours. Marko crossed my mind and I felt bad for him. He'd always been one of my favorite crew members. He'd saved my life more than once and I couldn't save him this one time. It just didn't seem right. I didn't think it would ever sit right with me but I decided to be happy about his life. There was no sense worrying about things I couldn't change. He wouldn't have wanted me to be sad for the rest of my life because I couldn't help him. Still, I missed him.

I tried not to think of the one I'd lost, but instead the one I'd saved. I looked over my shoulder to the closed door to my cabin. I needed to talk to Murphy but at the same time I couldn't. There was a reason I'd avoided relationships. I didn't want to admit how I felt to him since I didn't know what he was thinking. I trusted him, more than I probably should, but I didn't want to admit I was in love with him. I was too proud for that. Then again, I'd been with men before, long term and the one night stand variety, but none of them made me feel as good as he did. Even when he was ticked at me, I still wanted him around. That was about the first time since meeting him that I actually knew what I wanted. Problem was, to keep him in my life meant giving up piracy and petty theft. I was beginning to think I was okay with that and it scared the hell out of me.

The sun was beginning to come up before the door to my cabin opened. Gray light spilled across the deck as the sun started to come up over the horizon. Connor stood next to me looking out across the water. "Heard me this time?" He asked.

"Before you opened the door completely," I grinned at him.

"Where are we going?"

"California," I said and pulled a rope from the nearest mast and anchored the wheel steady. "My crew needs a break. You're welcome to stay at my house or I could drop you guys off anywhere you want."

"I don't think that'll be needed," he smiled at me for the first time in the past twenty-four hours. I suppose we were both a little giddier.

"How is he?"

"Awake," he paused and the grin got wider, "and asking for you," he added.

I looked back at him feeling my own smile creep further across my face. I'd skipped over the school girl crush and straight into that permanent butterfly feeling. "Have you gotten any sleep?" I asked him.

"A little," he admitted and then looked me over. "More than you."

"Thanks for noticing," I laughed. "Why don't you try and get some rest. I'll sit with him for a bit."

I started to walk him over to the stairs but he stopped and pulled me into a hug. My ribs and busted hand screamed out in protest of his crushing hug but I didn't say anything. I'd learned enough about him to know this wasn't normal so I let him. "Thank you," he said finally and let go of me. "I don't care how you did what you did or how it's even possible, but thank you."

"You're not the only one who needs him to live," I said softly. He smiled and walked down the stairs.

I waited for a few moments, standing outside the door to my own cabin wondering when I'd lost my courage. After a few minutes, I opened the door. Murphy was lying in the bed covered in my usual comforter. His eyes were closed again. I most have taken too long to work up my nerve. I sat down beside him on the chair Connor had left behind.

"About fucking time you decided to come in," Murphy spoke. His voice was raw and he kept his eyes shut.

"I thought you'd want some time with Connor," I said. "And besides, you need your rest."

"Are you mad at me?" He asked and opened his eyes. His hand floated out and caught mine.

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because I did the opposite of what you said and you lost a crew member," he looked at my hand entwined with his.

"I'm not mad," I said softly. "I'm glad you're back." My heart started to race as I thought about telling him all the things I had been thinking about. I was glad he was still alive because I was in love with him. It felt good to admit that for a change instead of ignoring the pangs in my stomach.

"Come here," he said and I lost my nerve again as I slid in the bed with him. I carefully wrapped an arm around him and snuggled up to his side. "I missed something important didn't I?"

I yawned and looked up at him. "Nothing really." I know, I know, I chickened out. I let sleep overtake me and drifted off along with him, listening to the steady but strong beating of his heart.

The next time I woke up, we were just passing through the Panama Canal. Pain in my ass normally but even more nerve wrecking when carrying three fugitives and a dead body. Murphy slept through the whole thing. I wasn't sure how he managed to stay asleep. The whole crew had been in and out of my cabin all day. Apparently, they'd all made nice now and wanted to make sure Murphy was okay. That was one of the main reasons I liked having a crew full of men. They were more forgiving about most things, especially when said things had saved their captain on numerous occasions.

We stopped outside of Los Angeles where I let most of the crew off. Joey was the only one who would stay for the hour long trip North where my house was. He rented a little place near the harbor there. Murphy had come out of my cabin finally to say goodbye to the crew. He walked slowly and a little hunched over, but other than that it was hard to tell that only thirty something hours ago, he'd been about to die. "Joey and I are going further North," I told Murphy. We were standing on the deck looking out over a tiny little dock on the outskirts of the town. Better to avoid Agent Miles this way.

Murphy looked at me sideways and said, "are you trying to get rid of us?"

"No," I tried to smile at him teasingly but that didn't work out so well. "I just figured now that you're all better, you guys would want to be on your way."

"Jack," he shook his head with a laugh. "You are one very odd woman."

"I try," I shrugged. "I mean, you're more than welcome to stay at my house but since we'll be taking at least a month off, I assumed you'd want to find a new ride."

He grabbed me before I could say anything else, pulling me close against his body. He leaned down so his mouth was next to my ear. "Do you really think I don't remember what you said to bring me back?"

I was speechless which was probably a good thing. I did have a way with saying the wrong thing, embarrassingly wrong thing. He took advantage of my speechlessness and kissed me, hard and for a long time. I pulled away and stumbled backwards a little. "I, I have to go steer the ship." I mumbled and headed off to the helm where I pretended to be paying more attention to the water than the fact that Murphy was staring at me the whole time.

Joey grinned at me when I eased the ship into the town's little docks. "I'll be right here if you need anything," he nodded towards the three Saints standing on the deck watching us.

"I'll be fine," I kissed him on the cheek. "I don't think they want to kill me anymore."

"That's not what I worry about," he was grinning again. "Your dad asked me once to make sure nothing happened to you and I'm afraid I've done that too well," he paused again and the grin faded a little. "You need to trust someone for once in your life, maybe accept that you're not meant for the path you once thought you wanted."

"Not you too," I groaned. "Wait, how long have you been dreaming about him?"

"A few months now," he grinned again and turned towards the Saints. "Keep her safe," he told them and shook hands with Connor and Romeo. He stopped in front of Murphy and said, "I was worried about you at first but I think you're okay."

"Thank you," Murphy smiled when he could have made a joke. I liked that he hadn't made fun of Joey rare sentimentality.

We made it back to the dock at my house in record time. The guys looked over the house surprised by the size of it. I think they were expecting a shack and not the five bedroom mini-mansion before them. Connor and Romeo went back to their cabin to get their things. I could tell Ellie was gone without having to go inside. She was mad that I hadn't been home in so long, she probably went back to Italy with my idiot brother. The lights went off on their automatic timer as the sun rose over the horizon. I hadn't slept a wink for another night.

"Are you planning on going inside?" Murphy asked me as he wrapped his arms around me.

"No, I have something to do first," I turned around in his arms so that I was looking up at his face. "You still have time to go. I wouldn't be hurt or anything if you did."

"Yes you would," he said confidently.

"Maybe a little," I teased and wriggled out of his arms. He started to say something else but I walked down the plank and to the dock without looking back at him. I didn't want to see if he was actually going to stay. My stomach couldn't take that.

Instead, I went to my garage and pulled out an old shovel. I'd used it too much but refused to buy a new one. By the time I made it back to the ship, the Saints were gone. I didn't know if they were in the house or gone permanently. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. I drug Marko's body outside and all the way back to the clearing on the edge of the property. You could see the big oak tree from the kitchen doors and the patio to the house. That was why I'd always chosen this spot to bury anyone who didn't have somewhere else to go. It was peaceful and scenic with the woods being so close plus it was a constant reminder to me of why I had to be careful and responsible all the time. Also, this was why I could never sell the house. Graveyards containing the bodies of men who hadn't exactly been reported as deceased wouldn't be the best selling point.

I picked a nice, sunny spot not too far from the oak tree and started digging. My ribs hurt like hell but it distracted me from the pain racing through my hand. Working one handed was slow going but after an hour, I had a pretty good sized hole going. "What are you doing now?"

I turned behind me to see Murphy standing with his hands on his hips watching me. His eyes wandered over to the still body covered by a white sheet. He got the picture. "His mom lives in Spain. She wanted him buried here."

Murphy approached me slowly, cautiously as I started digging again. "Let me help you." He tried to reach for the shovel but I pulled away.

"I'm fine," I told him.

"You're still hurt," he reminded.

"So are you."

"Magic water, remember?" He grinned. "I'm healed and you're not."

I stopped digging and stood in the hole looking at him. "This is my responsibility. I have to be the one to bury him," I said trying to keep my composure as the lack of sleep and my grief for my friend finally started to take effect.

"Come here," Murphy cooed softly and pulled me out of the hole. He wrapped his arms around me, holding my head to his chest. "This wasn't your fault."

"It always is though," he pulled away and looked at me oddly. "There are six other graves here." I point out.

"Oh Jack," he pulled me tighter against him again. "You can't keep blaming yourself for everything. You're just one person."

I didn't say anything, just cried into his chest for a while. I pulled away and rubbed at my eyes. This time I let him help me dig. "This is my fault too," he said and took the shovel.

We traded off digging, his turns always seeming to last longer, until the hole was big enough to lay Marko in. "He was a good man," I said softly.

"A good friend," Murphy agreed and we pushed dirt back into the hole.

After it was all over with, we sat down against the oak tree, sweating and panting. "You're still here," I said softly.

His hand reached out and took mine. "I'm not going anywhere."

I smiled over at him and stretched my legs out in the warm grass. The sun was high overhead and the shade from the tree was on the other side. "My dad told me I had to stop fighting you. He said I had a choice to make, good or bad."

"Have you decided?"

"I did when I said what I did to bring you back," I admitted and pulled his hand into my lap looking at the dirt staining his palm. I couldn't repeat what I had said. I also didn't want to admit I would give up being a pirate for him. At least before he told me what he was thinking.

"Good," he smiled. "Do I get to meet your dad?"

"We're sitting about six feet above him right now," I looked down at the grass below me.

"Oh," Murphy said and I waited for him to tell me I was crazy and leave. "Weird things happen a lot with you around."

"I've been saying that for months now," I grinned.

"Connor told me about your book," Murphy pulled his hand away and instead put it around my shoulder. "Is that how you find wrecks?"

"Yup."

"And the lockets are the key to reading the book?" He asked. I nodded at him. "And why Sir William wanted to kill you?"

"Exactly. He wanted the Oracle of Delphi last time so I blew up his boats."

"Explains a lot," he was silent for a few minutes before he suddenly said, "I love you."

I looked at him waiting for the punch line but it never came. "The great Captain Jack, stunned into silence," he laughed.

"That's not what I expected you to say," I told him. "I love you too." It wasn't anything romantic. In fact, it was probably the oddest exchange of words we'd ever had but at least it was sincere.

"What's the plan now?" Murphy asked me.

"I suppose stealing is out of the question now," I said. He nodded his head and a laugh. "Well, we still haven't found Blackbeard's treasure."

"Okay," he grinned. "Just no more Nuk-Luk," he laughed and kissed me, pulling me against him again. My dad probably wasn't happy we were making out on top of his grave, but he had to be glad I'd found Murphy. I sure as hell was.


End file.
